


Covert Enterprises

by engagemythrusters



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, Big City, Cop AU, Deep Space Nine - Freeform, Detectives, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gangs, M/M, Modern AU, The Next Generation, Two Precincts, lots of references, pretty much everyone is gay, was gonna be b99 but then I changed it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-04-14 07:50:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14131506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engagemythrusters/pseuds/engagemythrusters
Summary: Two precincts in Federation meet when a Sergeant transfers from the 17th to the 9th. They go about life as usual, until two big investigations crop up. Lead by Captains Jean-Luc Picard and Benjamin Sisko, the two precincts work together to end the gang activity in the city.





	1. Jadzia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday, May 11th through Sunday, May 13th

“Guess who just nabbed the last two Maquis leaders in Federation!" shouted Julian as he barged into the room with Miles in tow. "Bow down to the two best detectives in the city!"

"We’re going out tonight!" Miles laughed.

"Isn't Keiko expecting you home tonight?" Odo asked. "Or don't you at least want to shower?"

"Nah, she doesn't care if I'm out with Julian," Miles said. 

Jadzia rested her chin in her hands. "You'd think they'd realize they're in love with each other by now."

"What, Julian and Miles? No, they're both too dumb to notice that," Kira said, leaning back in her chair. "Bet they spent the whole stakeout cuddled up together talking about how much they loved each other. As friends."

"Mm. Bashir and O'Brien... sitting in a van... definitely not K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Because they're friends," Jadzia sighed. She watched Detective Quark join the other men.

"That scum." Kira angrily spat. "You know what he did today? He called me 'darling' at least five times."

"Nerys, you know he just does it to get you angry. He's not actually flirting with you, he's too busy doing that with Odo. Or rather, to Odo. I swear, the only straight person in this dump is the Captain."

Kira turned away from her. "Well, the captain and Odo and I." 

Jadzia raised her eyebrows at that, but said nothing. She sat and watched Kira stare at the celebrating bunch of detectives. She understood that Kira grew up in a strict religion, but sometimes Jadzia just wished that she'd admit her true feelings. There was absolutely nobody in the precinct who would judge or condemn her. 

"You hear that we're getting a new Sergeant?" Kira asked, still staring at the men. They had opened a box of donuts Miles had brought.

"Yeah," said Jadzia. "It's about time, too. It's been, what, two months since Eddington was caught with the Maquis? Do we know where this guy's coming from? Do we even know who this guy is?"

"Nope. Sisko said he'd talk about it. He'd better, the guy's coming on Monday."

"Three days? And we don't know shit about this guy? Geez," Jadzia said. 

 Kira shrugged. "The captain's in his office if you really wanna know, but Jake came visiting, so I don't think you really do."

"Jake's here? I thought he was only allowed to bug Sisko about his work when he's off-duty." 

"No, I think this is just father-son bonding or something. I don't even think Jake likes his job enough to pry his dad about investigations anyway."

"Well, it's his own fault for working at a tabloid," Jadzia said. "I told him years ago that he should just jump on his novels, but he said he wanted experience. I hardly think this qualifies as real experience."

"I said he should write children's books. He laughed and started quoting the 'see Spot run' thing." Kira said. 

Quark came sauntering over, followed closely by the tall, beanpole-figured Odo, who was glaring down his nose at the little man as usual. 

"That kid has got a fine job, he has," said Quark. 

"Just because you're a liar and a cheat doesn't mean Jake needs to be one, Quark," Odo grouched. 

Quark mock gasped. "Me, a liar and a cheat? Odo, you wound me! I'm a fine officer of the law!"

"A fine officer indeed. Your knowledge of the law only comes from the need to hide behind it. I have personally arrested half of your cousins myself."

"And how does that relate to me?" Quark asked sweetly. "Just because I come from them doesn't mean I'm like them!" 

"Riiight." Odo glared at him. "When you tell them what to gamble on next, be sure to teach them how to avoid getting caught."

"Odo! You know I'd never help anyone get away with criminal acts!" He grinned and sidled up to Odo. "Besides, even if I did, why would I tell them to stay away from you? Anyone would love to spend time with you, you great blob of warmth and comfort!"

Jadzia had to hold in laughter as Odo's usual look of discomfort increased tenfold. One look at Kira would throw all of that out the window, and the two cackled their hearts out. A most undignified look crossed his face, and Odo walked away with Quark hot on his tail, still buttering him up with compliments. 

As Kira covered her mouth to stifle her laughing, Captain Sisko walked out, followed immediately by Jake and Deputy Nog.

“Guys! Listen up!” Sisko yelled, beaming from ear to ear. “I want you all to hear this. As of this moment, you’re all cordially invited to the wedding of Jake Sisko and Deputy Aaron Nog!”

Shock was immediately felt by everyone, but it was quickly replaced with excitement. Jadzia watched Jake hold out his hand and Nog take it. The smaller man looked up at his tall partner with such grin that even Jadzia could feel its warmth.

“Shame on you!” Quark shouted across the din. “This is not what I wanted from you, boy!”

Nog looked at his uncle with confusion, and started to pull his hand away from Jake’s.

“I always told you to marry rich! Marry money!” Quark barked. “Did I ever say you should marry with your heart?”

Nog’s smile returned, and so did his hand in Jake’s. “No, but uncle… you haven’t married yet… so at least I’m better off than you.”

Quark sighed. “Fair enough. Have you told your father?”

“No, not yet. I’ll tell him and Leeta tonight, with Jake.”

“Good lad.” Quark nodded. “If only I was as lucky to find someone as special.”

He looked deliberately at Odo, and again Kira and Jadzia were forced to hold in laughter as Odo pretended to drop something under his desk. Jadzia watched him hide down there for a few solid seconds as the attention slowly dropped from him and back to Captain Sisko.

“Alright, so I know you all are anxious to hear who the new Sergeant is,” he said. “I can tell you this much. His name is Sergeant Worf, and he’s coming from the 17th precinct. Anything else you’d have to ask him yourself.”

“The Enterprise crew?” They’re all a bunch of do-gooders!” Noting the glances from the rest, Quark quickly added, “It’s not that we’re not trying to do good, it’s just that… well, the 17th precinct is a bunch of snobs that think they’re better than the rest. It’s disheartening to the rest of us humble, hardworking cops.”

Sisko crossed his arms. “Well, Detective Quark, you’re going to have to change that attitude real fast if you want to meet them on Sunday.”

“What?” Quark’s normal haughty demeanor slipped from his face.

“That’s right, folks,” Sisko said. “The captain of the 17th precinct has invited us Niners to a picnic at Archer Park as going away and welcoming party to Sergeant Worf. I expect you all to attend and be on your best behavior.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Jadzia murmured under her breath the moment he turned away. She opened up a manila folder and turned to her computer.

She spent the day typing away, and had such a headache by the time she got home that she forgot to water her plants.

Nothing eventful happened on Saturday. Well, for the most part. Julian and Miles came in with hangovers, and that entertained Jadzia for a few minutes before the two forgot about the headaches they had and remembered their newfound glory.

They spent half the day talking about the two boring days they spent in a warehouse and the one day in the van. They droned on for hours about the minutiae, between the two they basically covered every second of their story. When they got to the part where they actually caught the two last Maquis Gang leaders, it took about three minutes to explain it all. Even Quark said his time was wasted.

Jadzia went home with another headache, but this time she remembered to water her plants.

Sunday morning rolled in calmly. The warm May air wafted through Jadzia’s apartment window. It honestly didn’t smell the best, but that’s what happens in big cities like Federation.

She searched through her clothes, pulling a variety of colors out into the morning light. She debated between a coral and a light blue top for almost half an hour before deciding to just go with Kira’s favorite. She sighed, knowing clothes won’t change Kira’s mind, but she could always hope.

She nearly pulled her hair into her usual ponytail, but then froze. She wanted to make a good impression on the new people. She pulled half of it back and pinned it, and applied light makeup.

Since it was a picnic, Jadzia thought she ought to bring a few things. She dug around a basket of blankets for the small checkered one that she always used outside. Her best sunglasses and sunscreen were in already in her car from last weekend when she went hiking with her sister Ezri. She found a deck of cards to bring just in case.

When she had packed the blanket and cards in her car, she stood up. She had forgotten something, but wasn’t sure what. She stood there for a good minute or two before she gasped and ran back up three flights of stairs to her apartment. She ripped open the fridge and grabbed the tub of grapes and bag of oranges and bananas she had bought Friday. There was no way she was going emptyhanded to a picnic.

The drive to Archer Park was about an hour with the morning traffic, and she stopped to pick up Kira, which added another fifteen minutes.

“Ready for some fun in the sun?” Jadzia asked the disheveled woman as she stumbled into the car.

“No,” Kira grumped. “I was planning on sleeping in. I forgot to set my alarm. Do you have a brush?”

“Yeah, there’s a small one in the glove compartment.” Jadzia pulled out from between a minivan and a pickup slowly, cursing as a sports car went whizzing by. “Damn you, can’t you just drive slowly like the rest of us? It’s not like you’re more important. I’m a cop.”

“An off-duty cop, Old Man,” Kira said, brushing her short hair.

“Shut up, Major.” Jadzia said.

She noticed the way Kira tucked the soft hair behind her ear. Kira used to have a cute pixie cut, but she had grown it out to something a bit longer than a bob. Jadzia thought it looked beautiful, but Kira always said she wanted to cut it again.

“Chief says he remembers Worf from his time back at the 17th precinct. Says he’s one of the strictest men he’s met, and he doesn’t talk much. Five bucks says he and Odo clash,” Kira said, smoothing out a few frizzes.

“Oh, that’s right. I always forget Miles was back at the 17th before he was with us. Did they give him a sendoff like they’re giving this Worf guy?”

“As much as I heard from him, it wasn’t as grand, but that was at Miles’s request,” Kira said. “You know how much he hates parties.”

“Not if Julian throws them,” Jadzia giggled.

“When’s Julian going to find someone?” Kira asked. “He talks about romance all the time and it makes me sick.”

Jadzia shrugged and shook her head. “I have no idea. But, then again, all that talking is probably why he hasn’t found anyone. Nobody can listen to someone talk that much.”

“I wonder who can talk more. Quark? Or Julian?”

“Hmm. I guess it depends.”

“On what?”

“No clue. Should we try random topics some day and time the two of them prattling on?” Jadzia asked.

Kira smirked. “I think they’re gonna blab the same amount.”

“You’re on. Quark can beat Julian any day. Julian likes to ramble on about the things he knows, and even for him that has a limit. Quark doesn’t care about the topic, he’ll say anything on his mind. You could ask him how he feels about the fifth star he saw last night and he’ll ramble on for two and a half hours. Don’t look at me like that, I was bored and I wanted to know if he knew anything about space. I still don’t know if he does, I think I blacked out halfway through.”

“Oh my god, Jadzia,” Kira laughed.

The laugh made Jadzia smile to herself. She wanted to make Kira laugh like that all of the time.

“Hey, we’re almost there!” Kira pointed to the entrance to the park.

Jadzia parked her car next to an old red one that she thought was rather cute. She grabbed her blanket, sunglasses and sunscreen, while Kira picked up the fruit and carried it with her plate of cucumber sandwiches.

“Now, don’t talk politics with anyone and no yelling,” Jadzia advised Kira.

“Who says I’ll do any of that?” Kira asked shortly.

Jadzia snorted. “Don’t give me that, we both know you’re the most opinionated person to walk this earth. You could give even Quark and Julian a run for their money.”

“Fine. Only because you said, my friend.”

They walked past a playground. It was a bit empty for nine o’clock on a Sunday, no doubt it was due to the excess of cars for Worf’s party. They went through a small strip of trees into a large grassy clearing lit by bright sunlight. There was around thirty people spread out, all beginning to talk.

“I’ll put the blanket down here, ok?” Jadzia said, pointing to a nice spot next to a red and green plaid blanket.

“That’s fine. Where do I put the food?” Kira asked, glancing about.

Jadzia shaded her eyes and searched. “There! Behind that clump of people. There’s a picnic table. Looks like we’ll have to mingle in order to set it down.”

If Kira protested, Jadzia didn’t hear. She had snatched her fruit back and was making her way towards the group. Unlike her friend, Jadzia loved meeting new people. She couldn’t tell if it was the old soul that people kept mocking her for, or if it was her young attitude. But she loved people. That’s why she wanted to become a cop, she wanted to help others.

Kira, on the other hand, hated people. Well, Jadzia didn’t think she actually hated people, just severely disliked most of them. She didn’t get along well with others and fought with people often. Maybe that was another reason why Jadzia was so attracted to her. She was the exact opposite in personality. Jadzia didn’t know why Kira became a cop, she never asked. Nobody really asks Kira about those things, really. Everybody’s either afraid or respects her privacy. 

Some of the first people she came across were Jake and Deputy Nog, who were talking in hushed voices.

“I swear to god, Jake,” Nog hissed, “if you make me keep the name Aaron Nog, I’m gonna dump you here and now.”

“Fine!” Jake whispered harshly. “You can change it to Nog Sisko. I don’t know why you want your last name to be your first, but whatever.”

“It was my mother’s last name! I hate the name Aaron! I like Nog! You never call me Aaron, nobody does. Everyone calls me Nog. I just want to make it my real name.” Nog explained.

Jake thought for a second. “Nog Sisko… I don’t hate it…” He looked at his partner and grinned. “God, you’re annoying. Fine, I like it. Keep it.”

“I love you,” Nog said, smiling up at him.

Jadzia winked at the two. “Having fun?”

“We’ve been engaged for three and a half days and we’re already having trouble planning it all out,” Jake said.

“Oh, I’ve heard that it planning only gets harder from there. Fights and cold feet and such,” Kira said.

Jadzia elbowed her, and Kira looked at the disheartened faces of the young men. “Oh, god. I mean, well, you’ll have the rest of your lives to be happy, right?”

“I think that’s enough for now,” Jadzia said to Kira. She mouthed “Sorry!” to the two as she dragged Kira away. A puffy cloud covered the sun and cast a shadow.

They passed Captain Sisko, who was talking to a balding man and a red haired woman.

“Actually, it’s Doctor. Doctor Beverly Crusher. I have a PhD in forensic sciences,” the redhead said.

“My apologies, Doctor,” Sisko said.

He looked over Dr. Beverly Crusher’s shoulder at the two. He raised his eyebrows pointedly and winked. Jadzia waved and Kira nodded.

The two finally made it to the picnic table, and the cloud left. Jadzia looked up to see if any others would appear, but the rest of the sky was clear.

“You can put those right here,” a strong voice said.

Jadzia looked back down to see a dark haired woman gesturing to a spot on the table. She was pretty, Jadzia thought.

Kira took the fruit from Jadzia and set it next to a key lime pie, and she put her own cucumber sandwiches next to a cheese tray.

“I’m Detective Laren Ro, by the way,” the attractive woman said as she held out her hand.

Kira shook it. “Nerys Kira. And this is my fellow detective, Jadzia Dax.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jadzia said warmly, shaking her hand. Detective Ro had a strong handshake.

“So which one of these people is Sergeant Worf?” Kira asked. She stood on her toes and scanned the crowd.

“That one- right there,” Ro said. She pointed to a tall, muscular man, with hair pulled back into a very tight braid. Jadzia didn’t know what she had expected, but that was probably close to it.

Jadzia tilted her head. “What’s his first name?”

Ro frowned. “I thought that was his first name.”

“No, I could have sworn it was his last.” Miles O’Brien had wandered over to the table to put down a cake Jadzia knew only Keiko could have made. She didn’t think Miles could actually make food.

“Well, his parents’ last name is Rozhenko.” Ro nodded to the older couple Sergeant Worf was talking to. Jadzia wondered how they could be that man’s parents.

Miles answered the question on Jadzia’s mind. “Yeah, but they’re his adopted parents.”

“Adopted?” Kira inquired.

“His parents were killed when he was really young. His dad was a part of the Klingon Gang, and he was killed by a member of the Romulan gang ‘cause they had a feud back then. Or something.”

“Oh, I know what that’s like,” Kira said. “My parents were knocked off by the Cardassians.”

“Mine, too,” stated Ro.

“Huh. Small world.”

“Yup.”

“There’s too many gangs in this city,” Jadzia said. “And they all have the worst names. What the hell is a Klingon, anyway?”

“You said it,” said Ro dryly. She then walked away without an explanation.

Kira stood in silence for a few seconds, then turned to Jadzia. “Wow. She’s _exactly_ like me.”

“Yeah, but you’re cuter,” Jadzia smiled and winked. That made Kira throw back her head and laugh a little too loudly.

In order to keep the table free from too many people, they grabbed a single plate, filled it with food, and scuttled back to their blanket. Kira said she wasn’t ready to sit yet, so they set the plate down and stood a little while, making small talk to a few people here and there. A game of Frisbee was started in the background.

They met two women named Deanna Troi and Tasha Yar, who had both worked with the new Sergeant Worf. Deanna spent a lot of time looking at Tasha. When Tasha and Kira felt they were done talking, Jadzia gave Deanna an understanding look. Deanna just nodded and shrugged. She looked at Kira and returned the look to Jadzia. Out of all the people she had met, Jadzia felt that one little look gave her a connection with Deanna that she didn’t have with anyone else.

Jadzia warned Kira that if they left the food out for any longer, the flies would get it or some other person would. They ambled back to the blanket and noticed the plaid one next to it was now occupied.

A very pale man with brown, slicked back hair was standing on it, scanning around the crowd. Jadzia thought he was looking for someone, so she wasn’t planning on talking to him, but when he heard them approach their blanket, he turned around.

Jadzia almost jumped back in surprise. The man’s eyes were yellow.

“Hello. I am Detective Data Soong,” said the man.

“Mm. Soon to be La Forge,” came a voice from behind the bizarre yet attractive Detective Data Soong.

Jadzia first noticed the glasses. And then the cane.

“Geordi, I thought we had agreed that it would be hyphenated. We cannot have two La Forges or two Soongs in the building,” said Detective Data Soong, looking at the man who had just linked his arm into his own.

“But we can have two La Forge-Soongs?” The blind man asked, sass creeping into his voice.

“I had only meant-”

“Data, it’s fine,” he said, “I’m just teasing. I love you, whatever name you have.”

“This is my fiancé, Geordi La Forge,” Detective Soong said.

“Who are you talking to, Data?”

“I do not know.” Detective Soong looked at them with his bright yellow eyes. “Who are you?”

“I’m Detective Jadzia Dax, sorry,” Jadzia laughed, nudging Kira, who was staring at the couple.

“Detective Nerys Kira.” Kira was still staring.

“That is who we are talking to, Geordi,” said Detective Soong to his smiling fiancé. The two were now holding hands and leaning slightly into each other. 

Jadzia tried not to look at Kira’s hand, which was close to her own. “Um, are you both cops? You mentioned working in the same building.”

Geordi laughed brightly. “Ah, yes. The blind detective. I solve all of the cases! No, no, don’t apologize, I’m kidding. I’m the Enterprise’s resident hacker. I’m pretty good at it, too.”

“Enterprise… why is it called that, even?” Jadzia asked, really wishing Kira would stop staring at the two.

“It’s on Enterprise Street. I think it started as a joke from the original captain or something? I don’t remember. It’s just a name we use for ourselves,” Geordi explained. “Why are you guys called the Deep Space Niners?”

Jadzia smiled. “Well, we’re on Wormhole Avenue and we’re adjacent to a store that sells clothes branded as ‘out of this world,’ so that’s where the Deep Space part comes from. We’re the Niners because we’re the ninth precinct and because Captain Sisko really loves baseball. It's kind of ridiculous, now that I think about it.”

Detective Soong nodded. “Ah. That is quite interesting. The name is more of a stretch than Enterprise, but it is nevertheless intriguing.”

“I’m sorry,” Kira blurted, “but what is up with your eyes?”

Jadzia inhaled deeply and sighed. Two pairs of eyebrows shot up.

Kira gave an awkward stammer. “I… uh… I meant Detective Soong.” She attached a hasty “sorry” to the end.

Detective Soong’s eyebrows dropped, but Geordi’s stayed very much up and very much hostile.

“I see. First of all, I must ask you to call me Detective Data, or just Data. To answer your question, my father, Dr. Noonien Soong, was passionate about genetics. As a result, he attempted to use genetic manipulation on my twin brother and me before we were conceived. That is what we believe happened.”

One of Geordi’s eyebrows had lowered, but he still looked unamused.

“Well, I think they’re pretty cool,” Jadzia said in hopes of diffusing the situation. “Nobody else I know has yellow eyes.”

“Of the only two there are, he’s one,” Geordi said. To Jadzia’s relief, he seemed a bit happier. “And he’s all mine.”

Geordi kissed his cheek, which made Data’s eyebrows flick up for a second and the smallest lip twitch occurred. Jadzia thought it was the closest thing to a smile she had seen on him. Geordi must have felt it, because a big smile crossed his face.

“Is that the legendary hacker Geordi La Forge? And the one and only Detective Data?” Miles was back, with Julian in tow this time.

Geordi’s smile got wider. “Miles O’Brien! You dog, how are you doing?”

“Same old, same old. Say, I’d like you to meet my friend Julian,” Miles said.

Jadzia notice Julian staring at them both with the same look Kira had a minute ago. She caught his attention and shook her head ‘no’ violently. Miraculously, he actually got the hint and dropped it.

Miles, Geordi, and Data began talking about the days when Miles was back in the 17th precinct. Jadzia learned that it was Data who introduced Miles to Keiko.

“I can’t tell if I want to thank you or yell at you sometimes,” Miles laughed. “I bet you twenty bucks if I hadn’t met Keiko, I’d be married to someone completely different.”

“I think they’ve finally admitted it to themselves,” Jadzia whispered to Kira.

“About time,” she muttered back.

“How did you and Data meet, Geordi?” Jadzia addressed the group.

“That is actually a good anecdote,” Data said, looking at his shorter partner. “I had just been assigned to the Enterprise as a new officer. Geordi had just arrived at the station to help out a case a few weeks prior. I had been assigned to a case, and I was looking for a hacker. Detective Guinan, who had worked with Geordi on a previous case, sent me to his house. She had not told me that Geordi was blind, so when I arrived, I had believed that I went to the wrong house.”

“He spent about five minutes trying to apologize to me and trying to figure out directions to my house, which he was already standing in,” Geordi laughed. “When I finally convinced him it was truly me he was looking for, he brought me to the station. But he forgot all the equipment I needed to actually hack something. So we went back to my house and then to the station again. By then, we had wasted pretty much most of the day. So it was about one in the morning before we actually made any progress at all. At that point, I knew that this man was so helpless that someone needed to stay at this station to help him. He thinks it was his idea to make me a permanent part of the staff, but it was my idea all along.”

“I had asked Captain Picard, so I fail to see how this was your idea,” Data frowned.

“Because I asked you if there was anyone around who could do this stuff for you. When you said no, I said there _should_ be someone. You then went to Picard with this, and you told him I could do it.”

“So you are saying I had nothing to do with your employment?” Data was beginning to look confused.

“No, you did. Without your help, I would have turned to crime.”

“Geordi, I do not believe that you would have adopted a criminal record without my help,” Data said gently.

“Nope, you’re wrong. I was so close to turning it all over.”

“Geordi, I-”

“I was gonna run off with a gang! I was gonna become a blind vigilante hacker that sold my services to the highest bidder.”

“Geordi-”

“I would be dead without you!”

At this point, Data was so confused. He stared down at his partner, and then the ground. He abruptly looked back at Geordi, who was smiling devilishly.

“You are teasing.” Data observed.

“Yes, dear,” Geordi said.

A Frisbee came flying out of nowhere. Data, who had noticed it, picked it out of the sky as it came hurtling towards the small cluster of people. He looked down at the red disk and then at his fiancé, who had not noticed. He kissed Geordi’s forehead, which made him smile, but raise an eyebrow. Data gave him the Frisbee, and he turned it around in his hands a few times and said, “Riker.”

A man came running up, apparently looking for the runaway Frisbee.

“Riker, you ass, learn to throw better!” Geordi yelled as the man approached from behind him.

The man didn’t seem to be put off by Geordi’s foresight. “Ahh, ladies! Sergeant William T. Riker, at your service. Miles O’Brien! Where have you been?”

“In heaven, sir,” Miles said cheerfully. Jadzia thought it must be doing him some good to see his old friends again.

“Data! Just the man we could use. Come join our game!” Sergeant Riker boomed. “Sorry, Geordi, I’m stealing your man. He doesn’t have a choice, if that makes you feel better. It’s an order.”

Sergeant Riker reached to take the Frisbee from Geordi. “Wait… hold up… is that a beard?”

Geordi let go of Data’s hand and reached for his face. Jadzia had noticed the stubble earlier, but hadn’t known that it wasn’t supposed to be there. Geordi, however was shocked.

 “Aw crap. I must have forgot in the rush to get everything ready! Data, why didn’t you say anything?”

Data blinked. “I thought it was… adequate.”

A look came over Geordi’s face as Data was pulled away by Sergeant Riker. It almost looked like glee to Jadzia. “Adequate, huh…”

“Why do you look so happy?” Kira asked. “I’m sure if Miles had grown stubble and Julian had told him it looked only ‘adequate,’ he’d shave it off then and there!”

Miles held up a hand. “I think you mean Kei-”

Kira interrupted. “No, I didn’t.”

The sheer glee didn’t leave Geordi’s face. “Look, you don’t understand. I think you’ve noticed by now, Data isn’t the most emotional person. He’s never been. He had a rough childhood, his dad never paid him or his brother any attention, he was always working on his inventions, and his mom left because of it. Data just isn’t emotional at all. So when he says my beard is ‘adequate,’ there’s a lot of stuff behind it.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Julian said, “but why are you engaged if he’s essentially emotionless? Doesn’t that mean he doesn’t love you?”

Geordi shook his head. “No. He loves me in his own way. It’s not the same as yours or mine. It’s its own type of love, and that makes it extra special. Nobody else is ever going to get that love but me. Think of it that way instead.”

“That’s actually really beautiful,” Jadzia said.

Kira had sat down on their blanket and was eating almost all of the food that the two of them were supposed to share. Jadzia began to notice that Kira’s skin was turning a little pink.

“Nerys, I think you need to put on sunscreen.”

As Kira looked down at her skin, Geordi swore under his breath. Jadzia looked up at him.

“Sorry, but could someone get Data back over here?” Geordi asked.

“Sure,” Julian said, and he and Miles set off to get him.

Data came back by himself, apparently Sisko had pulled his two detectives into the game. He stopped by Geordi, opening his mouth to ask something. He didn’t get to, because the Frisbee smacked him in the head with a big thunk.

Jadzia was surprised to see that Data didn’t even flinch or blink. The Frisbee just fell to the ground, and Data looked at it.

Geordi reached for up Data’s face. “Are you alright?”

Data pressed Geordi’s hand to his cheek. “I am fine, Geordi.”

Geordi sighed. He turned to the game and shouted loudly. “RIKER! AIM! BETTER!”

“Sorry!” Came the sergeant’s response. “He was supposed to catch that!”

Geordi shook his head as Data touched his shoulder lightly, pulling him in. “Geordi, I am alright. What was it that you called me over for?”

“We never sunscreened you,” Geordi said. “Have you burned?”

Data peered at his almost silver skin. “It appears that I am beginning to burn, yes.”

“Well, we should stop it before it gets worse. I think the Rozhenko’s have strong sunscreen, let’s go see if we can borrow that, ok?”

“That is acceptable.” Data said, as they linked arms and walked toward the picnic table, forgetting the Frisbee.

Sisko came running for the red disk. “Old Man, Major! You’re recruited. Come join the game!”

He practically had to drag Kira away from the food and toward the field. Jadzia followed behind slowly, taking in the scenes around her. Keiko was playing with Molly and Kirayoshi, Nog and Jake were sitting and planning. Deanna Troi was sunbathing with Tasha Yar. Geordi was slathering sunscreen onto his fiance's back, chatting merrily away as Data stared almost lovingly up at the happy man. Jadzia couldn’t help but feel jealous of every one. They all had their special someone and they all were so happy because of that. She just wanted that for herself, is that so much to ask? Was Nerys Kira too much to ask for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Names are made to have stereotypical names. If a character has one name, the name from the actor is added. Bajoran names are flipped so that the first name is indeed first.  
> The gangs are made up from hostile Star Trek races and the Maquis.  
> It's very early in the morning, so I can't remember what else I was going to say, but if I remember, I'll put it down.


	2. Picard/Julian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 day later  
> Monday, May 14th

Monday, May 14, 08:53:16

He rested his chin on the tips of his steepled hands, staring at the white card in front of him. It mocked him, laying askew on his neatly organized desk.

His eyes flickered up when he noticed movement in front of him. Will Riker had poked his head in the door.

“Will, call Dr. Crusher up here,” Picard sighed.

“Yes, sir,” said Will. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that will be all, thank you.”

The clock on his wall ticked slowly. Picard wondered if it was his imagination or if it was falling behind again. Either one made each second feel like an eternity.

The card stared back each time he glanced at it. He couldn’t help but feel like it was aware of him, like it was reaching deep inside his mind to find all the nooks and crannies to hide there. Eventually, Picard couldn’t take any more of it and went to his Keurig.

It was already his second tea of the day, and he could tell that there was going to be plenty more to come after. He sipped on the hot Earl Grey as Beverly came into view.

She leaned on the doorframe and stared patronizingly at his tea. “What number is that?”

“This is only my second, Beverly. I don’t need you to mother me,” Picard mumbled, blowing over the hot mug.

“Oh, really? I think everyone in this station could use another mother, if you asked me.” Beverly folded her arms. “So, what’s up? What am I up here for?”

Picard nodded to the white square on his desk. Beverly’s face became solemn. She pulled on some latex gloves and gingerly picked it up. She held it up into the light.

“You know this won’t have any DNA, just like any of the rest,” she said.

He sighed. “No, they never do. I’m just a tad too hopeful or out of my mind.”

“Maybe a bit of both.” She smiled gently up at him. “But, I guess you can never be too careful, Jean-Luc. I’ll run tests. Again. As always, I can’t promise anything.’

“I know.”

“‘Corner of 4th and Cutler. Love, Q’’” Beverly read aloud. “Have you sent anyone?”

He watched her seal the card in an airtight bag. “I sent Detectives Ro and Barclay out fifteen minutes ago. If they find anything, they’ll call back.”

“If. Jean-Luc, you know this Q guy’s never wrong. It’s not going to be ‘if,’ it’s going to be ‘when,’” she said.

“Well, we’ll see when Ro and Barclay report back.”

“There’s another thing,” she said, slipping the sealed bag into her lab coat pocket. “Ro and Barclay? You know she’ll rip his head off.”

“I was going to send Ro and Worf as usual, but then I remembered he left,” he sighed. “She’s going to miss him, Bev. We all are.”

“I know. I miss him too,” Beverly said. “But you’re missing the point. Ro is too strong willed for Barclay. He’s going to be in a fit for weeks after, you’ll never get anything productive out of him.”

“See, I was hoping Ro would learn to ease off,” he said, “and Barclay would grow a bit more backbone.”

“Yeah, but you don’t do it right after her partner leaves!” She shook her head. “She’s going to be more stubborn and unhappy than usual, and that is in no way going to help either her or Barclay. Poor Broccoli.”

“What, and that’ll help him? No name calling in my office, thank you very much,” he said. “Speaking of which, how’s Wesley?”

Beverly shrugged. “He’s doing as well as can be expected. The apprenticeship is going well, last I heard.”

“Apprenticeship?” Picard frowned. “I thought it was an internship.”

“I don’t know, that’s what Wesley calls it when he phones,” she said. “I thought apprenticeships were for carpenters and plumbers, but I guess engineers can have them, too. According to Wesley.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s going well,” he said. “Tell him we all miss him, alright?”

“Okay.” She smiled. “Well, I’d better get down to the lab and analyze this… nothing. Say, is your bald spot growing?”

As he reached for his small strip of remaining hair, Beverly winked. “Just teasing. Bye now!”

“Tell me if you find anything,” Picard called after her.

“I will, but you know I won’t find anything!” She sang, not bothering to look back.

The office was vacant of Beverly for only two seconds before Will popped back in.

“Anything from Broccoli and Ro?” He asked cheerfully.

“As I just told Dr. Crusher, no name calling in my office,” Picard said.

“Sorry,” Will said.

“No, you’re not,” Picard sighed. “You should be a bit nicer to the man, he’s a valuable detective.”

“He’s a breathing sack of nerves!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s one of my best workers and can put two and two together better than most people here,” said Picard, sipping his hot tea.

Will rolled his eyes and sat down on the chair facing Picard’s desk. “Say what you want, but the man can’t socialize for the life of him, nor can he do a lick of sports, as apparent from yesterday.”

“Hark who is talking,” Picard scoffed. “I heard you hit, what, twelve different people yesterday?”

“In my defense,” Will started, “I-”

“How many times did you hit Data? Or nearly hit him?” Picard asked.

“…three,” Will said sheepishly.

“Ah. And how did Geordi take to that?”

“I made Data promise not to tell him about the last time. I’d like to keep my hands, thanks,” he said.

“What?” Picard laughed.

“Geordi said he’d chop my hands off if I hit him or Data again,” Will explained. “And to be honest, I can’t tell when he’s joking sometimes, so I just… played it on the safe side.”

Picard cocked an eyebrow. “I see. Well, I’m glad he didn’t make the same statement in regards to anyone else. Didn’t you give someone a bloody nose?”

“Yeah, it was some boy, I think,” Will recalled. “I don’t know who it was, but he was sitting with another kid who looked familiar.”

“Well, that ‘boy’ you hit was Deputy Aaron Nog, apparently,” said Picard. “Do you want to know how I know?”

Will shook his head and guessed. “Because you talked to him?”

“No, because the ‘kid’ sitting next to him is the son of Captain Benjamin Sisko,” Picard said. “And the two are engaged. You just mauled my counterpart’s future son-in-law.”

Will blanched. “Haha… whoops?”

“Whoops is right. I hope you’re better at Pictionary and poker tonight at game night.”

Will groaned. “I can’t draw to save my life!”

“Then sweep them out in poker, Will,” Picard shook his head.

“Where is it tonight?”

“I think it was either Data and Geordi’s apartment or Deanna’s, I can’t remember.” Picard finished his tea.

There was a hurried knock on the door and Ro entered.

“Sir, we caught someone,” she said hurriedly.

Picard stood and followed her to a holding cell, where Barclay was bouncing on his toes excitedly. There was a mass huddled on the bench in the holding cell, with long hair covering the face.

“Who is this? What are they here for?” Picard asked, staring at the lump.

“Unsure, sir,” Ro said, folding her arms. “We don’t know exactly what happened, he turned himself in.”

“Is this Q, then?” Picard asked.

“No, sir, I- I don’t think so,” said Barclay.

“Elaborate, detective.”

“He’s got the three bent triangles as a tattoo on his neck like the other Klingons, I saw it myself when we put him in the car.” Barclay wrung his hands nervously. “Your mysterious Q doesn’t just rat out the Klingons, he seems to know what happens in all the gangs. I don’t think he’s actually in a gang, I think he’s an outsider with a curious amount of inside information. Sir.”

“Hm. You could be right.” Picard frowned. “But then again, what Klingon would turn themselves in? Isn’t their gang ‘code of honor’ more important to them than anything else? Wouldn’t that mean he’d try anything to stay away from getting caught?”

Ro shrugged. “Probably. That’s why this is all so odd.”

“Figure it out, detectives. We don’t have time for mysteries like this,” Picard said. “Notify me if you find anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you tonight. I have a meeting to get to.”

* * *

 

Julian gawked at the new Sergeant Worf. He was setting up his desk. There wasn’t much to put in it, Julian noticed. He didn’t seem to have much for personal belongings.

Sisko had spent half the morning talking to him in his office. Quark made bets with Kira and Jadzia about how he’d get along with the rest of the crew. Miles and Julian made their own conjectures about what he was going to be like. Odo was the only one who actually did any of his work.

Sergeant Worf’s new desk was pressed up against Odo’s desk, which had been empty since Sergeant Michael Eddington had been arrested for being a Maquis leader.

The Niners had a long, interesting history with the gangs in the city. Every precinct did, and probably every person in Federation. The gang activity in Federation was abhorrent.

First of all, the very spot the precinct lay on used to be Cardassian territory. They used to run the whole area before they were driven out by the force to make way for the building. One of their bases used to be in the spot where the Bajor store now stands. The Cardassians came back now and then to make life hell for the Niners.

The Maquis was the next problem. While the whole basis for the gang was to eradicate the other gangs in order to have peace in the city, they posed their own dangers. Most of it was made up by people who had their lives screwed over by one gang or another. Everyone was sympathetic to the group, but they still were a gang terrorizing the city, and had to be brought to justice.

Klingons were more of a nuisance than a real threat in the area. The Borg and the Romulans were also pests, but otherwise harmless. But Sisko always had the crew keep an eye out for any sign they would become something more.

A drawer slammed shut and Julian was pulled back to reality. Sergeant Worf was staring down at his desk, apparently satisfied by how it looked. Julian thought it was a bit bare, but it seemed to fit the minimalistic qualities of the man.

Julian sighed and looked over at Miles. “Wish something would happen.”

“Careful what you wish for, Bashir.” Sisko had walked up to the two. “I’ve got something for you.”

“What is it, sir?” Bashir asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“An informant has contacted us. He’s got information on Cardassian gang movements. I’d like you to go check it out.” Sisko dropped a manila folder down on Julian’s desk.

The folder was practically nonexistent, and Julian opened it to find essentially nothing.

“Do we even know anything about this guy?” Julian asked, astounded.

Sisko shrugged. “Odo does. It’s his old informant.”

Julian inhaled deeply. “Alright. Well, Miles, let’s go.”

“No, no.” Sisko stopped him with a hand. “You’re going to take Sergeant Worf with you.”

Julian and Miles ogled at him. “What?”

“You heard me.” Sisko ignored further protests. “Sergeant Worf, I’d like you to join Detective Bashir here.”

“Yes, sir.” Julian shouldn’t have been surprised at how low and gruff Sergeant Worf’s voice was, but it caught him off guard.

“Ooh, where are they going?” Jadzia called from her desk, where she had halted betting with Kira and Quark.

“Out, Old Man,” Sisko said, smiling challengingly at her.

“Oh fine. Don’t tell me anything.” Jadzia winked. She reached a hand out to Quark, who reluctantly placed five dollars in it.

Julian and Sisko gathered around Sergeant Worf and Odo’s combined desks.

“Constable, what can you give me on your old Cardassian informant?” Sisko asked quietly.

“Sir, you don’t have to bother these two, I can just go,” Odo protested.

“No, you’re doing valuable work here. Unlike the rest.” Sisko glanced back at the three in the back, who had gone back to betting, and Miles who was staring up at the ceiling.

Odo opened his mouth, but decided against a further comment. He reluctantly surrendered a file to Sisko. It was only slightly larger than the manila folder Sisko had given Julian.

“Thank you, Constable.” Sisko handed the file over to Julian.

“Can we use the Defiant?” Julian asked with a light plea in his voice.

“That’d probably be smart. Don’t want cop cars showing up in front of the man’s house. The Cardassians would probably take him out,” said Sisko.

Sergeant Worf’s expression had gone from slightly confused to absolutely lost in the span of a minute. Julian pulled on his jacket and beckoned for the man to follow.

He led Sergeant Worf out back to what appeared to be a maintenance van. It read “Reed’s Repair” in large red letters on either side of the white vehicle. The windows were tinted over so nobody could see inside, and a ladder was attached to the top.

Julian pointed to it. “The Defiant. It’s really a surveillance van. We can drive around in this baby without anyone wondering what it is. It looks exactly like actual Reed’s Repair vans, which are everywhere. It almost feels like we can pass by invisibly.”

“NX74205,” Sergeant Worf read from the license plate.

“Don’t forget it,” Julian said, jangling the keys in his hand. “Want to drive?”

Sergeant Worf stared at the keys in Julian’s hand. Julian noticed that the man always seemed to be frowning.

After a few seconds of silence, the reply came as an unsure yes. 

Julian smiled and chucked the keys to him. Sergeant Worf caught them and held them up to view them. He unlocked the van and stepped inside. Julian shook his head slightly and hopped in the shotgun seat.

He entered and found the sergeant glancing around the van. Julian watched him survey all the equipment in silence.

When Sergeant Worf had his fill, he turned to face Julian. A wild look came about the man’s eyes and the frown turned into something Julian couldn’t quite place. “I like this van.”

Julian realized he was smiling. In some odd way or another. But Sergeant Worf appeared to be absolutely beside himself in comparison to his normal demeanor. Julian shook his head again and plugged the address into the small GPS on the dashboard.

The van started, and Sergeant Worf was practically beaming. He started to drive out, and the beam widened. Then he turned on the radio and flipped through about seven channels before he found one suitable. It was a classical music station, and the announcer had just stated that they were playing twelve hours of nonstop opera. Sergeant Worf’s smile was just about as bright as the morning sun, and Julian suddenly felt very afraid of this man.

About halfway through the trip, Sergeant Worf turned down his opera and asked Julian a question. “Why did the captain call Detective Odo ‘Constable’? He is _not_ a constable.”

“Oh, that.” Julian laughed. “It’s just a nickname. We’ve all got them.

“Everyone has a nickname?”

“Yeah, the captain gives them out. Jadzia is ‘Old Man’ because she’s an old soul, Quark is ‘Barkeep’ because that man can cheat you just like the best. Odo’s ‘Constable’ because he’s got this strong sense for justice. I’m ‘Doctor’, but I can’t remember why. Miles is ‘Chief’ and Kira’s ‘Major’, but I couldn’t tell you why.”

“Does the captain have a nickname?” Sergeant Worf asked.

“Not that I know of.”

“Am I to receive one of these nicknames?”

“I don’t know. I suppose if you told Sisko you didn’t want one, he’d listen.”

Sergeant Worf’s frown was back. “This is _not_ how we did things at the 17th precinct.”

“Well, this isn’t the 17th precinct,” Julian said. “You’re just going to have to get used to that.”

Sergeant Worf actually growled. Or at least, Julian thought he heard a low rumble come from his throat. Julian’s fear of the man increased greatly, and he quickly turned up the music as an excuse to stop talking to the terrifying new sergeant.

It was 12:34 in the afternoon when the two arrived at the apartment complex. Julian was sure he never wanted to hear an opera ever again. Ever. Sergeant Worf appeared to be in a very good mood again, though, so Julian couldn’t really complain.

“Okay, so…” Julian looked at Odo’s file. “He lives on the third floor, so ring… this bell!”

Sergeant Worf’s finger shoved in the intercom button forcefully and retracted with the same malice.

It would appear that his good mood doesn’t last long, Julian thought to himself.

There was an awkward pause for a few seconds. Julian was about ready to assume that the informant was out or something similar, but then the intercom buzzed back. Julian expected a voice, but nobody said anything.

“Well, that’s odd. Aren’t they supposed to talk through that?” Julian asked. “I mean, my apartment doesn’t have one, but I thought the general idea was that it was like a doorbell that you talk through.”

Sergeant Worf just shrugged.

The awkward silence returned, and Julian was just about to suggest they try again in a little bit, when a figure appeared behind the darkened glass of the apartment’s front door. The door opened, revealing a strange, but attractive man.

He wasn’t either tall or short, he seemed to be average height. But that’s where average stopped and he became odd. His hair was jet black and slicked back the way Odo usually had his hair, but only this man’s hair was slightly longer and it seemed to look like it was the only way the hair was ever done. The man’s skin was even weirder; it was almost a sickly gray color in the midday light. Perhaps the oddest of all was his clothes. His shirt was striped between a light and dark shade of green, and he was wearing a dark pink vest with black polka dots. He looked almost like a watermelon.

But, despite all of this, Julian still thought the man was very handsome. He got so distracted for a second that he forgot what he was actually there for. As the odd, attractive man stared politely at him, Julian cleared his throat.

“Um, hah, sorry. Are you…” Julian struggled over the name. “Elim Garak?”

“Ee-lim,” Elim Garak corrected, “but yes, this is he.”

Julian tried to stay focused and tried not to think about Elim Garak’s flowery voice and dazzling smile. “I’m here to speak with you about possible Cardassian movements.”

“I thought Detective Odo usually comes for that,” Elim Garak said.

“Oh, um, he’s busy at the moment, so we came,” spluttered Julian.

“Ah, well,” Elim Garak’s eyes went up and down Julian’s body. “I suppose you’ll do just fine.”

Elim Garak let the two in, and led them up the stairs to his apartment. The door was a dark forest green, which Julian immediately thought suited him.

“Come in, come in.” He opened the door into a cozy, well lit room. “Sit down, I’ll bring tea.”

Julian sat down on a small, comfortable chair. The room was painted a light sky blue, and all the objects in the room seemed to fit with the color. Vases were cobalt and white and held lilies, the furniture was wooden or a beautiful cream color. There was a wooden table in the corner supporting a small tank, which appeared to be holding a small, gray lizard.

Elim Garak returned with a tea tray holding two cups of tea. He set it down on a wooden coffee table in front of Julian and Worf, and sat in the middle of a couch on the opposite side. He took one of the cups and offered the other to Julian. Sergeant Worf made a small ‘humph’ noise, but said nothing.

Julian took the tea. “Mister Garak, I am-”

“Please, call me Garak,” Garak smiled. “Plain, simple Garak.”

Sergeant Worf didn’t seem to like him much. “Garak, we are-”

“No, you mistake me,” Garak’s voice grew cold as he addressed Sergeant Worf. “ _He_ may call me Garak. _You_ may refer to me as Mr. Garak.”

To hide a smile, Julian took a sip of tea. It tasted rather nice. It was very herbal. Unfortunately, Julian was so distracted Elim Garak and his clever attitude, it went down the wrong tube. He tried to hold in his coughs, but that only made them worse. Garak stood and walked around the beautiful coffee table to Julian.

“Are you alright, my dear detective?” Garak's flowery voice asked near his face.

Tears had filled Julian’s eyes as he was hacking his lungs out, so Garak’s face swam around for a few seconds before it cleared. He was a bit too close to Julian, dazzling him all over again.

“Yes, I believe I’m alright,” Julian rasped once he had finished coughing. “I’m terribly sorry.”

“Do not apologize for coughing,” Garak laughed. “It is a completely natural action. I hope the tea wasn’t the cause.”

It really wasn’t, but Julian wasn’t sure how he was supposed to tell Garak that he got distracted by him and his charm. “The tea’s wonderful, it just went down the wrong way.”

“Ah, I see. Now, you were telling me who you are.”

“That’s right. I’m Detective Julian Bashir, and this is Sergeant… Worf,” Julian said. He realized he didn't know the sergeant's first name.

“Detective Julian Bashir. How wonderful it is to meet you,” Garak purred.

Sergeant Worf made another “humph” noise.

Julian cleared his burning throat again. “Um, is there anything you can tell us?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Cardassians, of course.” Garak sat back and folded his hands. “I have heard recent plots about a certain import of drugs to the city.”

“Do you have any specifics?” Sergeant Worf asked, annoyed.

Elim Garak raised an eyebrow at him, but nothing more. He turned his attention back to Julian and smiled pleasantly.

Julian blinked, and opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish. He mentally shook himself and regained his composure. “Do you know anything more that can help us?”

“Why, yes, of course!” said Garak warmly. “You may want to write this down.”

Julian nodded to Sergeant Worf, who had already had a pencil and pad ready once Garak had started talking. However, Garak didn’t say one word. Not until Julian grabbed his own pencil and paper.

“An informant of my own in the gang has recently contacted me. While she is not an important member of the Cardassians, she knows how to extract the right information from the right people. As of last night, she has acquired nearly all of the details of an important drug trade that will occur in a week’s time.” Garak leaned in. “Listen carefully. I suggest that you, a drug squad, and some ninety odd people all show up for a fun little party in the warehouse on the corner of 4th and Cutler next Monday at around nine at night.”

“Is that all you can tell us?” Sergeant Worf asked.

Garak leaned back again and spread his arms wide. “Sergeant, I firmly believe in a laissez faire approach. I have already said too much. If that information was not sufficient for you, I suggest you leave now.”

“Gladly,” huffed Sergeant Worf. 

“I suppose that’s our cue to get out of your hair,” Julian said, standing. He set his empty teacup down on the tea tray next to Garak's still full one.

He turned to leave with Sergeant Worf, but stopped to thank Elim Garak.

“Ah, my dear detective. It was no trouble, not for you,” said Garak.

Sergeant Worf was already angrily waiting on the stairs as Julian exited Garak's door. Julian was about to close it as Garak's flowery voice came from the other side.

“Wait!” Garak pulled the door back open. “Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?”

Julian felt like tea was going down the wrong tube all over again. He fumbled words around his mouth. “I… yes… I mean… Sure.”

Garak's bright smile was still hypnotizing him. “Wonderful! How about this Friday, around ten? I know this wonderful bar called The Replimat.”

“Sounds great.” Julian felt himself blush.

“Perfect! It’s a date!” The green door closed, and Garak was gone.

Julian followed Sergeant Worf down the stairs in a stunned silence, and walked into the bright sunlight still blushing furiously.

That all was wiped away when Julian noted Sergeant Worf’s expression. If he usually looked upset, then that face was absolute fury.

Sergeant Worf unlocked the Defiant and opened the door with such a force, Julian was surprised it didn’t rip right off of the van. Julian entered on his side cautiously. He didn’t want to anger the sergeant even more.

The drive back to the precinct was one of the most tense car rides Julian had ever had. Sergeant Worf didn’t turn his awful twelve hours of opera back on, which actually made Julian feel worse. They just sat in silence. The kind of silence that grows louder each second. By the time they were almost back, Julian felt like he was close to his death. He quietly wrote his own eulogy in his head, just in case Sergeant Worf felt like taking out his murderous feelings on someone.

When they arrived back the precinct, Julian scampered out of the car, while Sergeant Worf stomped his way after him. Julian practically ran up the stairs and to his desk. He almost fell of his chair when he sat down. Miles gave his friend a quizzical look. Julian shook his head.

“That man’s insane!” Julian whispered to Miles.

“Who, the informant?” Miles asked.

“No! Sergeant Worf!” Julian caught his breath and leaned back in his chair.

Miles chuckled. “What? Worf’s great!”

“No! No, he isn’t!” Julian put his hands on his face. He didn’t know what deluded version of the sergeant Miles had made up in his head from way back when, but it clearly wasn’t anything like the real man. The real Sergeant Worf was probably the most terrifying person Julian had ever met in his whole life. “How many car rides have the two of you shared?”

Miles shrugged. “Not many. He’d usually play opera and sing along. I hardly think that’s scary.”

“I’m pretty sure he wants to kill me!” Julian hissed.

“What? Why?”

Just then, Sergeant Worf had caught up with Julian. He stood in the exactly in the center of the detective’s room and stared at Julian with animosity. He folded his arms and everyone gaped silently at him. Captain Sisko must have noticed from his office, because he stepped out and matched Sergeant Worf’s stance exactly.

“What’s going on here?” Sisko asked.

“This detective,” Sergeant Worf spat “has impeded an investigation by _flirting_ with the informant.”

“I swear, sir, I didn’t-” Julian started.

Sisko held up his hands at both of them. “Let’s do this with a little less hostility, please. Sergeant, what is the problem?”

Sergeant Worf bared his teeth menacingly. “I was attempting to retrieve the information from the informant, but Detective Bashir kept flirting with him.”

Sisko looked at Julian, and Julian shook his head. “I swear on my life, sir, I wasn’t flirting. Well, he was flirting with _me_ , but I didn’t flirt back.”

“He is going on a date with him!” Sergeant Worf said. “The man asked him out, and Detective Bashir said yes!”

Julian was in too deep to notice Jadzia collect twenty dollars from both an enraged Kira and a sulky Quark in the back. It would have been wonderful if he had noticed it, because even Odo had given her five bucks. Jadzia pocketed her money with glee.

“Well, Detective Bashir,” Sisko said. “Did you agree to a date with him?”

“I did, sir, but I assure you, I didn’t think-”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t.” Sisko crossed his arms again. “But, even so, I don’t have a problem with you going on a date.”

Both Julian and Sergeant Worf asked, “You don’t?”

Captain Sisko smiled at them both. “No, I don’t. Julian is entitled to date whomever he wishes. And it’s about time, too.”

Sisko held out his own hand now, and Quark swore loudly. Kira sighed angrily and pulled out another twenty bucks, and collected Odo’s second five dollar bill. Quark reluctantly added his twenty to the pile and passed it to Sisko. The captain chuckled and stuffed the money in his chest pocket. Julian looked over to Jadzia, who grinned and waved her own small stack of money at him.

“Did you bet on my love life?” Julian demanded.

“Yes we did!” A roughish twinkle appeared in Sisko’s eyes.

Miles raised a hand. “I didn’t, Julian!”

“Yeah, and we all know why that is!” Kira yelled.

Julian ignored her. “Thank you, Miles.”

Sergeant Worf was utterly confused. “You mean you’re just going to let him get away with this?”

Sisko patted his pocket that held the money. “Why not? I gain a lot from this. Besides, maybe Julian can get more information out of this guy, hm?”

As all eyes turned to Julian, he froze. “Um. Sure?”

“See? There you go. Now, come on.” Sisko beckoned Sergeant Worf to follow him into his office. “Give me the official report.”

An ill-tempered Sergeant Worf slammed the office door shut, leaving all attention to focus on Julian.

“I can’t believe you all bet on my love life!” shouted Julian.

“Well, why not?” Jadzia asked. “You’re in the pool for Odo’s. And Kira’s. Why shouldn't we bet on yours?

Odo and Kira began to complain, and Jadzia winked at Julian. She turned to her friends and smiled as they shouted abuse at her, refusing to admit what she bet on. Quark took this chance to hide away from the two, no doubt because he had bet something absolutely ridiculous.

Julian sighed and put his head in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mysterious love interests tip off future boyfriends.
> 
> What I had forgotten to say last night (aka two am) was that nonhuman characters look like their actors, excluding the differences I add myself. 
> 
> I have the third chapter ready to edit (if you can call it that, I'm crap at it), and I'm planning on writing the fourth and fifth tomorrow, hopefully.


	3. Ro/Quark/Picard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same day  
> Monday, May 14th

Ro banged her head on the desk repetitively. “What. Are. We. Missing.”

Barclay kept pacing. “I don’t know. I just don’t know!”

She rested her cheek on the cold surface. “Uhh. I want to go hooome. I want to go to beeed. And eat iceee creeaam.”

“Let’s just go over this again, okay?” Barclay stopped pacing and held up his hands. “Just one more time.”

“There’s nothing to go over, Reg,” Ro whined. “And I’m hungry.”

“Just… just bear with me, okay?” Barclay bounced on his toes. “I promise to go with you to get some food afterward.”

Ro smiled up at him. “Now you’re talking. Alright, shoot.”

“Okay. So. We get an anonymous tip-well, not anonymous, we know who it’s from, just not _who_ it’s from. Oh, that doesn’t make any sense, I’ll try again.”

“Reg. Reg!” Ro shouted, sitting up. She took a deep breath in. “It’s alright! I understand what you mean. Just go on.”

Barclay inhaled and looked sideways at her. “Okay. Okay. We get a tip from the mysterious Q, whoever that is. We go to where he says. There’s a Klingon. The Klingon asks to be brought in. We bring the Klingon in. The Klingon, instead of giving us any real information, says to go back to where we found him. So we go back. Nothing’s there. We come back to the Klingon. Klingon is gone.”

Ro threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. She sighed and gazed at the tiles. She’d give anything to go home and take a nice bath.

Barclay’s face moved awkwardly in front of the tiles. “Ro?”

“Yeah, sorry Reg. I’m listening.” She sat up and faced Barclay, who stared nervously at her. “I just don’t know, man.”

“Neither do I, and that’s what worries me,” he said.

“Everything worries you,” she said.

“And everything makes you angry,” he said. “Oh, sorry…”

“No, you’re right. I’m pissed at just about everything.” Ro swiveled her chair around in circles. “Don’t worry, not you.”

“That’s funny, I always thought I’d annoy you,” Barclay chortled.

“What?” Ro finally sat still. “Is that why you ignored me all the time?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I thought since I’m just this nervous wreck that I’d bug you. Because that seems to be what bugs you. Ah, no offense.”

“Reg, I always thought I bugged _you_! I wanted to hang out, but you always avoided me,” she admitted.

He shrugged and held up his hands. “Well, I was afraid of you.”

“Damn, I am sooo sorry!” Ro said, feeling awful about herself. She’d always assumed Barclay just didn’t like her, she never thought about what she might have been doing to drive him away. “I mean, I know I’m a pretty angry person, but like, I wouldn’t just hate someone ‘cause they’re anxious 24/7!”

“Well, that’s good. Makes me feel a little bit better.” Barclay sat down and rolled his chair over next to hers.

“Uhhnnnn. I was already feeling crappy about myself, now I just feel a thousand times worse.” Ro put her face in her hands.

“Oh no. Don’t do that. Um. Want to talk about it? I find that always helps me.” Barclay scooted his chair even closer.

“Well, Worf just left. I always worked with Worf. Always!” She said into her hands. “Now he’s gone, and I feel like the rest of the people hate me. I thought Worf was the only one ever who didn’t hate me. And we worked pretty well together, too. We solved a crap ton of stuff. And now he’s just gone. And I’ve got no one.”

Barclay folded his hands together. “Well, now you’ve got me. And believe me, nobody hates you.”

“Oh yeah? What about Sergeant Riker?”

“Well… I don’t know what to say about him. But let me tell you this. I always thought that everyone was annoyed with me all of the time because I was always anxious and because I’m just not normal. I know, shocker, right?” His sarcasm caused Ro to snort into her hands. “Until Geordi came up one day and just… listened. He didn’t think my nervousness was dumb or stupid. He just was nice to me. And then he brought me to Data, who was also super nice to me. And then Guinan and Deanna. I mean, I’m still working on Captain Picard and Sergeant Riker, but that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to say is, sometimes people don’t hate you as much as you think.”

Ro looked up from her hands at him. “Thanks for that. I really mean it. “

“Happy to help!” He spun his chair around. “But we really do need to get working on this, because like I said, I’m still working to get the captain to like me, and this is kind of slowing it down.”

“You bet.” She pulled her paperwork in front of her. “Hey, Reg?”

“What?” He asked, looking up from his own report.

“Since Worf is gone… do you maybe wanna be my partner? I know you generally work alone, but I think we’ve been working well.” She asked tentatively.

A gigantic beam crossed his face. “Hell yeah. I mean, yes. Sorry.”

“I should probably inform you that being my partner includes me ranting about random stuff half the time,” she said.

“And I should inform you that being mine means you have to deal with my nervous everything,” Barclay replied.

“Deal.”

“Alrighty!”

“Do you think Guinan likes me? Like, like-likes me?”

“What…”

“I told you, you’re gonna have to deal with me being me. That includes talking about stupid stuff,” Ro said. “Including me asking if you think Guinan likes me.”

Barclay frowned. “I guess I don’t know. Has she given you any indication she likes you?”

“That’s the problem, I don’t know when people like me or not. They could tell it straight to my face and I still couldn’t tell.”

“Oh same.”

“…hold up, weren’t we going to get back to work?” Ro asked as she realized she had accidently drawn on her pants with her pen. She could have sworn she clicked it off.

“Right! You’re right.” Barclay scanned his report. “Is there any way he could have fit through the bars?”

“I mean, unless he’d starved himself for years before and then chopped off his head to fit through the bars, I don’t think so, no,” said Ro.

“Well, there goes my idea.” He threw his papers down on the table.

“Is it possible we just forgot to lock the door?” Ro stared down at the pen marks on her favorite jeans.

“No. And even if we did, he couldn’t have gotten out without being caught.”

“Damn. I can’t think of anything we haven’t thought of already.” Ro cried.

“Neither can I!”

“Ugh, I want to go home.”

“We can’t. But, don’t worry. I promised food. Is it almost time for dinner?”

Ro’s head plopped back down on the table. “It’s not even four o’clock yet!”

Barclay threw his head back and groaned. “Nooo!”

“Worf’s gone, I’m tired, I’m hungry, AND we lost a Klingon.” Ro was pretty sure her day wasn’t going to get any worse.

* * *

 

Quark squinted down Jake’s ring. “This pure?”

Jake shrugged. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You make it sound like you don’t care,” Quark said.

“Not really. I think it looks cool, though,” said Jake.

“Nog, your fiancé’s broken, get a new one,” Quark said. “Only the best for my nephew.”

“Uncle, he doesn’t have to be greedy just to be the love of my life,” Nog said. He finished filing the paper. “There, now we can go home.”

“Wait, the two of you already live together?” Sisko asked.

Jake’s eyes widened. “Um. So what if we do? You and Kasidy lived together for months before you actually got engaged.”

“I’m just teasing,” Sisko said, patting his son’s shoulder. “You did good. Nog’s probably the best person you could ever dream of marrying.”

Quark watched his nephew bask in the praise of the captain. He shook his head lightly and waved as the couple left.

“Kids,” Quark said.

“Not anymore,” Sisko informed him. “They’ve grown up. It’s time we see them like that, too.”

“No way, not Nog. There’s no way you can look at that kid and see an adult,” he said.

“Or maybe you’re just not ready to see him grown.” Sisko smiled. “I didn’t know you were so sentimental.”

“I’m not sentimental,” denied Quark, “I just don’t think that kid’s ever gonna truly be an adult.”

“Just you wait, Quark,” Sisko said as he walked to his office. “It’ll hit you soon enough.”

“What hit me is you taking my well earned money,” Quark muttered. “Bashir didn’t ask for the date himself, I don’t think it counts.”

“Having regrets, Quark?” Jadzia called from her desk. She had her feet propped up on it and was snacking on a bag of chips she had bought with the money she had won from Quark. More like stolen, when he thought about it.

“Me? Regrets?” Quark sneered. “Never!”

“Oh, can it, Quark, we all lost money,” Kira said.

“I didn’t,” claimed Miles.

“Yeah, and we all know why, Miles,” Kira snapped.

Miles blinked, and Quark sighed loudly.

“You’re not special, Quark.” Kira dismissed his attitude.

“Oh, but he likes to think he is,” leered Odo from behind Quark.

Quark spun around and smiled up at him. “Odo! Just the man I love to see!”

Odo’s face fell into despair right away, and Quark grinned even wider. If there was one thing that could make Quark happy again, it was teasing Odo. No, no. Scratch that, it was just Odo. Odo could make Quark happy just by existing. Teasing him was just a bonus.

Quark watched Odo slink awkwardly away to his desk. He sighed to himself. He knew that Odo wasn’t straight, Odo practically admitted it every time he scoffed at some straight couple walking down the street. He just never _actually_ admitted it, which was the problem. Quark was absolutely nuts about Odo, and the only person who didn’t notice was Odo himself.

Quark was immediately glad that there was no betting pool on his own romantic affairs, because he was certain everyone would be winning right now. When other people are winning money, it means he isn’t, and that’s almost a crime itself.

With a stroke of inspiration, he discreetly rolled his desk chair over to Jadzia. She raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement and munched on a chip.

“I have a business proposition,” he whispered. “Step outside for a minute.”

She sighed and threw the chip bag into a drawer of her desk. She stood up and marched herself over to the conference room.

“I said outside,” Quark complained as he peeked through the window blinds at the detective’s room.

“And I chose to not listen.” Jadzia sat down in a chair and rocked onto its back legs. “So what’s this business proposition?”

“I wanna make a bet on my love life,” Quark said, still peering through the window.

“What? I thought we’d agreed that both of us stay out of any betting pools!” she exclaimed.

“I know, I know.” He stared at Odo, deep in thought. He turned to her. “I’m gonna bet on my chances with Odo.”

“That’s no surprise,” Jadzia said, pulling out her phone to make a note. “What’re you going to bet?”

“I bet a hundred bucks that in a month, I’ll get Odo to kiss me,” he declared.

She whistled. “That’s a big bet.”

“I’m serious. This is the most important bet I’ve made.”

“So am I. That’s the biggest we’ve gone.” She wrote it down in her phone. “Now, are you absolutely sure about this? Once I finish this reminder, it’s done. You can’t back out.”

Quark sucked air through his teeth and thought on it for another second. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

She shook her head and pressed a button. “Done. No backing out now.”

“Good.” Quark nodded.

“You realize you’re going to have to completely change tactics, right? You can’t just make Odo feel uncomfortable all the time.”

“I know. I’m gonna romance the hell out of that man. He won’t know what hit him. I’ll kill him with love. Then he’ll kiss me and I won’t have to worry about my hundred bucks.”

“Quark.”

“And then we’ll live happily ever after, the end!” Under his breath, he added, “with my hundred bucks.”

“Quark!”

“Sorry.”

“You know what?” Jadzia asked. “I’m gonna up the stakes a little.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna bet… let’s say another hundred bucks… that by next month, Kira will have kissed me. Same betting pool.” Jadzia added it to her phone.

“Are _you_ sure about this?” Quark asked.

“I suppose. I mean, if a hundred bucks can’t make me work for Kira’s heart, nothing will, right?” she mocked.

“That’s just rude. But speaking of those hundred bucks, who is gonna get our money if we fail? I didn’t bet it to anyone, neither did you.”

“You know, sometimes I think these things are a little too elaborate. I was just gonna bet it to you. But I guess we’re just gonna have to donate it,” Jadzia mused.

Quark nodded. “Fine by me. I fully plan on getting my money back anyway.”

“How about this. If either of us lose, we donate those hundred bucks to Jake and Nog’s wedding. If we both lose, we double it,” she suggested.

“Done.”

“Holy shit!” Jadzia jumped off of her chair and ran to the window. Quark whipped around and followed her gaze.

“No. Way.”

Quark watched as Odo and Sergeant Worf laughed together. The two seemed to be having a good time. He walked out of the conference room to hear what they were discussing, Jadzia in tow. They were apparently discussing efficiency in the workplace.

Jadzia’s face fell. “That’s fifty bucks to Sisko.”

“Damn.” Quark said. He pulled out ten bucks from his wallet. “I really hoped I wasn’t gonna lose another bet today. That’s fifty of my precious dollars down the drain.”

“Well, I’ve only lost ten,” Jadzia said, pulling out some of the money she had won just hours earlier, “and it’s not even my ten, so I’m fine.

Quark watched Odo chat merrily away with Sergeant Worf. Normally, Quark would be happy to see Odo in such a happy mood, but now he had two hundred bucks on the line.

“Odo, you better not lose me any more bets,” Quark whispered to himself. “Neither my pocket nor my heart could afford it.”

* * *

 

Monday, May 14, 19:54:23

Picard checked his watch. It was raining, and he didn’t want to stand outside, but he was clearly supposed to arrive at 2000 hours. He wrestled with his inner need to be perfectly on time and the primal urge to stay dry. In the end, he decided six minutes was far too long to stay outside in the rain.

He dashed into the apartment complex. He pulled off his hat and shook a little of the rain off himself before climbing the stairs. First floor, second floor, third floor. Top floor. He walked down the hall until he found the right number. He checked it with the number on the small tab of paper Deanna had given him. He heard voices on the other side of the door, so he was sure he wasn’t too early. He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Warm light from the apartment lit the dark hall, and Data poked his head outside.

“Captain,” he said. “Welcome to game night.”

“Ah, thank you, Data. Here.” He handed Data a bottle of wine. He honestly wasn’t sure he would make it through the night if he wasn’t drunk enough.

“Geordi said you would most likely bring an alcoholic beverage. He told me that I am to tell you: ‘we do not need to get drunk to be stupid enough to play our games.’” Data ushered Picard inside.

“Did he now?”

“I paraphrased. He used contractions, and I did not.”

“I see I’m not early,” Picard said, noting that everyone was already there and mingling.

“No, sir,” Data said, taking Picard’s wet coat from him. “It is an unofficial rule of game night to show up a half an hour before it begins.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m late, then.”

“It is perfectly alright, sir. It is your first game night.”

“Data, you don’t have to call me ‘sir’, we’re off duty. Call me Jean-Luc, or even Picard if you must.”

Data opened his mouth, then closed it and searched Picard’s face. After a few moments of contemplation, he said, “I am afraid I cannot do that, sir.”

Picard chuckled. “That’s alright. However, the invitation stands to anyone else.”

“I shall make everyone aware. Please remove your footwear before you step off of the mat,” Data cautioned.

As he removed he shoes, Picard took the chance to fully look at the room. There was a small carpeted living room with a couch and coffee table facing a TV, which was covered by an easel holding a large pad of paper. The window was directly behind the couch, showing the dark rain pouring onto the terribly lit road outside. The yellow light was coming from the small kitchen, which was slightly elevated and divided from the living room by a pony wall. It was the only part without a carpeted floor, it was wooden instead. There was a large card table covering most of the space. There wasn’t much room between the edges of the table and the cupboards and counters. The entrance to the kitchen was in a hall that lead to two doors on each side, most likely a bedroom and a bathroom.

The décor of the apartment wasn’t much. Books were on every shelf in the apartment, and that was about all there was besides furniture. The furniture itself wasn’t much to look at. The couch in the living room was dirt brown, and the coffee table was thick and plain. It had seen better days, there were scuffs and chunks missing from it.

Picard assumed the lack of adornment was due to the fact that Geordi probably didn’t care what it looked like, and the fact that Data didn’t seem to have the need for personalization. It truly made the apartment feel like an actual home and not an exhibition, much like most people’s homes.

Now standing in his socks, Picard began to feel a bit silly. Nobody seemed to notice, they were all talking happily among themselves. He began to regret coming over. He was their captain, he wasn’t supposed to play games with them. He was supposed to be a solid authority figure.

He was so lost in his own thought that he didn’t notice Guinan approaching.

“Nobody’s gonna think less of you for joining us, you know,” she advised.

“How did you know?” Picard asked.

She just smiled. “Go join them. I have to go. My dog’s puking.”

“That’s… unfortunate.”

“Yeah, especially for my carpet. See you tomorrow.”

As she darted out the door, Picard exhaled deeply. He was going to actually have to join the conversations.

He approached the kitchen, where a few people were sitting. There was a cat sitting on the pony wall, and it stared up at him. The first thing he heard was Geordi and Barclay talking.

“I’m just not sure how it all happened,” Barclay was saying.

“It’s not your fault, Reg. You just did what you were supposed to. It can’t be all that bad,” Geordi consoled him.

“Easy for you to say,” said Barclay glumly. “You screw up and your computer crashes, that’s it.”

Ro, who was sitting nearby with her chin resting in the palms of her hands, saw Picard and blanched. She nudged Barclay with her shoulder, and he looked up, too.

“Good evening, detectives,” Picard said. “I assume you didn’t get anything from the Klingon, then?”

Barclay opened his mouth to speak, but Ro nudged him again.

“Sir, I think it’s best if we talk about this tomorrow,” she said slowly.

Picard wondered what on earth could have happened, but he just nodded. “That seems like a good plan. Don’t want to ruin game night with work.” That was exactly what he wanted.

“Glad you could make it, Captain,” Geordi said.

Picard held his hands up. “Please, I’d prefer to be a little less formal off duty. Call me Picard.” He honestly would prefer eating a shoe to less formality.

Ro and Barclay exchanged a look, while Geordi just shrugged.

“All due respect, but I think we’re all a long ways from addressing you as anything other than ‘captain’ or ‘sir’, sir,” Geordi said. “We haven’t established the same off-duty vibes you have with Deanna, Will, or Dr. Crusher.”

Picard internally thanked a higher power, and Data returned with Beverly from the hall.

“… and that is my opinion on banana slugs.”

“Data, I didn’t know how much you cared about slugs,” Beverly said. She winked at Picard.

“They are important creatures, Dr. Crusher,” Data replied, sitting down at the table next to Geordi.

“Where’s Will and Deanna?” Picard asked.

“I believe they went up to the roof with Tasha,” Data said.

“The roof? It’s raining!”

“I said the same thing,” Geordi said. “I don’t think they really care.”

“I’ll go get them,” Beverly said. “I wanna see what they’re doing up there.”

Ro whispered something in Barclay’s ear, and he started laughing. Ro snickered lightly, and repeated it to Geordi, who joined Barclay’s laughter. Data looked at his fiancé and frowned lightly. Ro beckoned him in, and whispered it in his ear. He sat back and frowned more, trying to understand why whatever she said would have such an effect on Geordi and Barclay. He sat that way until Beverly returned with the three in tow. When he saw them, a dawning look came across his face.

Tasha, Deanna, and Will all sat down, and Geordi protested.

“You’re gonna ruin the chairs, you’re all wet!” He cried.

“Sorry, Geordi,” Will said.

“That’s not the only thing you’re sorry for,” Geordi muttered as Picard sat down between Beverly and Data. He took Data’s hand and demonstrated a chopping motion. Will flinched.

“So you heard about the third time he smacked Data with the Frisbee?” Picard asked.

“Heard about it? I was right there when it happened! I’m blind, not stupid. When people say ‘look out’ and then there’s a loud thunk and Riker comes to talk to Data, it means Riker hit Data with a Frisbee,” Geordi said. “Actually, now that I think about it, he doesn’t even need to talk to Data about it, nobody else is as bad at Frisbee as he is.”

Will put his face in his hands, and Barclay spoke up.

“Actually, Geordi, I think I might be worse,” he confessed.

“Did you hit anyone yesterday?” Geordi asked.

“No. I never actually caught it, so I couldn’t throw it.”

“There you go. Immediately better than Will Riker at Frisbee,” Geordi said.

Will groaned. “Permission to fire Geordi, captain?”

“Absolutely not. We’re off duty, he can say what he likes,” Picard chortled. “Besides, where would we find someone as good as Geordi? You, on the other hand, are easily replaceable.”

“When did this become destroy-Will’s-life night?” Will threw his hands in the air in defeat. “I didn’t ask for this!”

Deanna smiled. “You don’t need to ask for it, Will, you get it anyways.”

Will had to sit through another five minutes of torment before Data got the cards and chips for poker.

Picard hadn’t played any card games in years, so he stumbled through the game as he tried to brush up. Data and Geordi made a formidable team, and in the end, it was the two of them up against Will. Picard thought it was for the best that they had trash talked Will before the game, because in the end, he had cleaned them all out. Even Data and Geordi had to surrender to him.

“Well, what do you usually do after poker?” Picard asked Beverly as the table was cleared.

Beverly tucked her damp hair behind her ears. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“Oh, the night, where we are, who we’re with, etcetera,” she said. “Usually we play three games, but tonight I think we’re just playing poker and Pictionary.”

“Don’t you think it was a bit rude not to invite Worf back?” Picard asked. “He was everyone’s friend, but now he can’t play at game night?”

“A rule we made up back at the first game night. You leave Enterprise, you leave game night. We never thought it would actually happen, but first O’Brien left, and now Worf. Why are you here? You never come to these things. You’re always too afraid to ‘fraternize with lower ranks’.”

“Oh, I decided it was time I joined in, especially since Worf left. Might as well fill his empty spot with a familiar face and not a stranger,” Picard said, leaning back.

“Well, I’m glad you broke out of your shell. Maybe you’ll be a bit friendlier with the rest now,” Beverly ventured.

“By the way, Ro and Barclay have seemed to make quite a connection,” Picard said, watching the two drag their chairs to the living room.

“I noticed. I guess I was wrong this morning,” she said.

In the living room, Data shoved the couch forward to fit chairs behind it so that the easel could clearly be seen by all. Picard and Beverly were the last to pull their chairs up, so they sat directly behind the couch, which was occupied by Data, Geordi, and Barclay. The rest were sitting on the chairs scattered in the small room.

“Okay,” Deanna said, standing up in front of the easel. “This is actually Guinan’s version of Pictionary, so the cards were made up by her. Her rules call for two big teams, so I’m going to go ahead and split you up.”

She moved Data, Geordi, Barclay, Beverly and Picard to one team, and Tasha, Will, Ro, and herself to the other.

“Alright, I’m going to flip a coin to see which team goes first.” Deanna took a quarter on her pocket. “Will, since you just won, heads or tails?”

Will narrowed his eyes. “Tails.”

Deanna flipped the coin. “Damn you, William Riker, it’s heads.”

Tasha punched Will in the arm and Ro groaned. Picard smiled to himself as Will’s expression mocked pain. It was nice to see everyone having fun.

“Well, Guinan’s rules state that the opposite team gets to choose who draws, so at least we didn’t lose everything, _Will._ ” Deanna shot him a playful look.

Geordi sighed loudly. “It’s gonna be me, isn’t it?”

“Get on up there!” Will said.

Deanna bounced to her chair, apologizing to Geordi.  “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Geordi grumbled. “Can’t Data draw it for me?”

“Nope,” Will said. “That’s an unfair advantage.”

“You all have unfair advantages! You can all draw blindfolded and then I’ll guess what it is, how about that? Then we’ll see about fair.”

Data stood by Geordi. “Do not worry, Geordi. I will be right here. I will help.”

“Tell me what I’m drawing, please.”

Data selected the top card in the deck, and whispered something in his fiancé’s ear. He stopped and read the card again.

“What? That’s literally impossible!” Geordi exclaimed.

After thinking it through, Data whispered something else to him. A smile cracked on Geordi’s face and he nodded, and Data handed him the marker.

When Geordi was ready, Deanna started the timer for thirty seconds, and Geordi began to draw. Or scribble. Picard couldn’t make heads or tails out of it, and he looked at Beverly. She shook her head and squinted at it. Barclay looked at it with rapt attention, as if he actually knew what it was going to be. Near the last few seconds, Data murmured yet another thing to Geordi.

Deanna called thirty seconds and Geordi stepped away from the easel. Nobody knew what it was.

“Is it… the ocean?” Barclay guessed tentatively.

“No!” Geordi crossed his arms. “This is why I shouldn’t be forced to draw, it’s unfair for my team.”

“Guinan’s rules are rules,” Deanna pointed out. “I’m sure she didn’t mean for this to, but we’re awful people. It’s Will’s fault anyway, he guessed tails.” Will glared.

“Dr. Crusher, you know what it is, right?” Geordi pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Geordi, I have no clue,” Beverly admitted.

“Captain?”

“Is it…” Picard looked around the room. “Is it a cat?”

Data’s eyebrows raised and Geordi let out a whoop. Deanna’s mouth hung open and Will folded his arms.

“How the hell did you guess that?” Ro demanded.

“I don’t know, I just looked around the room and saw the books and a cat, and that is certainly no book,” Picard said.

“The card said to draw the last animal the picker had seen. As Geordi has never seen an animal, I suggested he draw Spot.” Data nodded to the cat, which was purring on Barclay’s lap.

“And he reminded me to draw the whiskers.”

“Is that what those squiggles are?” Will asked.

Geordi shrugged. “I’d assume so. I don’t know which squiggles you’re talking about.”

“Okay, no more picking Geordi,” Beverly said. “That’s not fair to anyone, and it’s just plain mean to Geordi.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dr. Crusher. As far as I can tell, I draw as just as well as the rest of you can,” Geordi sassed.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than what Will can do,” said Tasha.

“Hey!”

Geordi picked Ro to go next. She protested, but was pulled up to the easel by Deanna and Tasha. She picked her card and glared at everyone. Deanna started the timer and she began to doodle.

Picard couldn’t see what Ro was doing, she was standing in the way. Luckily, Data was quietly describing the picture to Geordi. By the time she had finished, Picard thought he had a pretty good idea of what it was.

“A radish!” Will called. Ro chucked the marker at his face.

Deanna pondered it for a few seconds. “It looks like a tree to me.” Picard agreed.

“Oh, I thought it was a rendering of Starry Night by Van Gogh,” Tasha said.

Ro ripped the sheet down. “It wasn’t either.”

“It was broccoli!” Geordi said. Ro stared at him and asked for the marker back so she could chuck it at him this time.

“What? Data said it looked like a tree. Broccoli is like little trees!”

“Oh, no, you’re entirely right, I just don’t get how you knew that faster than my own team.”

“What did the card say, then?” Barclay asked, scratching Spot’s ears.

“It said to draw a vegetable. I thought broccoli was going to be easy to guess. I didn’t expect the blind guy to guess it before my own team.”

Picard thought he rather liked game night after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picard's part isn't the best, sorry. It wasn't my favorite to write.  
> Also, I've written 20k in the past 48 hours, so if I missed any mistakes, I'm so sorry. I hate editing and my brain is fried.


	4. Odo/Guinan/Kira

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next day  
> Tuesday, May 15th

Odo started to wonder what had happened to Quark lately. Ever since yesterday he had been nothing but a complete gentleman, something completely new to Quark. It either meant that Sergeant Worf had scared him into being an actual caring human being for once, or Quark was in way over his head at the moment. Maybe it was both.

He set down his pen and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. He was going to have to keep a closer eye on Quark, for the sake of the precinct. If Quark really was intimidated or in trouble, it could only mean something dreadful was bound to happen.

Odo watched the little cretin closely. Quark was over at Bashir and O’Brien’s desks, filing a report and telling some anecdote that was making Bashir and O’Brien laugh. Odo despised Quark’s ability to multitask. Actually, Odo just plain despised Quark.

There’s nothing Quark wouldn’t do for extra money. Odo was certain Quark would sell out the whole precinct just for some pocket money. If there was ever a leak in the system, Odo was sure it was from Quark. He’d never proven it, but someday he would. Quark also had the distinct ability to make his presence known to everyone. Walking in the building every morning was a spectacle. After he left every night, there wasn’t a single person in the room who didn’t feel his absence. Nobody even had to know he left, they just could feel it.

Today, though, Quark brought in cake. Paid for by his own money. That was suspicious enough for Odo to go check all systems to see if they were functioning correctly. They were, but it didn’t quell the feeling that Quark was up to something. Because Quark was always up to something.

Odo’s train of thought was interrupted by Dax, who was standing over him and clearing her throat.

“Sorry,” Odo said. “Did you want something?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.” Jadzia smiled.

Odo looked at her expectantly, but she just kept smiling.

“Well, what is it?”

Her smile turned into a malicious grin. “I want you to have this cake.”

“Ah, no thank you, Dax,” Odo said. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need any cake.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” Dax’s evil grin didn’t leave. “In fact, I’m glad you didn’t want it.”

Odo watched as Bashir opened his wallet and pulled out some money. O’Brien did the same, and Kira collected them. Quark, for once, did nothing.

Dax had turned to go, but Odo stopped her. “I take it you didn’t offer me cake so I could enjoy it, then?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean. Do you, Nerys?”

“Not in the faintest,” Kira said, pocketing her money.

“Is gambling and betting all that the five of you do?” Odo accused.

“Well, it’s not _all_ that we do,” Dax said.

Odo stood and crossed his arms. “No, but you do spend an awful amount of time doing it. Is there anything you haven’t bet on?”

“Look, Odo,” O’Brien said, “What else should we be doing in our free time? There’s nothing to do.”

“Well, you could do your paperwork, for a start. And then maybe do, I don’t know, your job?” Odo growled.

“Odo, you don’t leave us any paperwork to do!” Dax exclaimed. “When there’s a lull, all we have left to do is bet on things. It’s a good way to make profit. Quark’s words, not mine.”

Odo glared at Quark, who held up his hands in defense.

“I didn’t bet on anything today, Odo. I’m doing my work, here, you see?” Quark held up the report he was working on.

“Oh, sure. It’s not like you haven’t bet on anything else, right?” accused Odo.

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about, Odo,” Dax said. “You’re in multiple betting pools yourself.”

“I believe I was in three, Dax. Two, now, and both of them are harmless. And they don’t interfere with my work,” Odo said.

Dax rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing that we all finished our work, isn’t it?”

“Ha,” Odo grouched. “I doubt it.”

He ignored any further protest made by anyone else and sat back down. He pulled out his paperwork again and returned to finishing it.

“I don’t believe this,” he muttered angrily to himself. “Betting on me eating cake. How ridiculous.” He looked up at Sergeant Worf. “It’s absolutely foolish!”

Sergeant Worf, who had just taken the piece of cake from Dax, froze with a bite halfway in his mouth. He looked sheepishly at Odo.

“Oh, never mind,” Odo grumbled.

Sergeant Worf sighed and set down his cake. “While I agree that this behavior is most unacceptable, I do not object to eating cake. Besides, Captain Sisko cannot ignore this for too long. He will put an end to it.”

“Will he? In the past five years he hasn’t.”

“That is unfortunate. But now I am here, and I will make sure they observe proper behavior on duty,” Sergeant Worf said. “But not right now. Now, I am eating this cake.”

And so Sergeant Worf did. Odo guessed it was a very good cake by the way the sergeant gobbled it down. His strange goatee twitched with delight as he finished. Odo was oddly amused by it.

Soon, Odo was fed up by his paperwork. He stashed it away in a folder, and neatly placed the folder among a group on his desk.

He went to the roof, which is where he always went to get away from the rest of the world. Everything always seemed so distant and surreal from the roof, almost like Odo was watching everything pass by, but he wasn’t a part of it. Standing at the ledge, Odo peered out into the city.

Bajor, the obscure clothing store across the street, was buzzing. It had its usual trail of weirdos and hippie-wannabes. Behind that was an old warehouse, broken down and abandoned. Grass was peeking through the cracks in the pavement, and small trees had popped up everywhere. Beyond that, the city grew back, and to the left and right, the buildings towered up.

Odo was beginning to feel blissful, when the door to the roof opened and closed. Odo didn’t turn around, assuming it was Kira, who sometimes joined him up there.

He heard footsteps, and a figure stood next to him.

“Beautiful day,” Quarks voice said.

Odo almost jumped out of his skin. “Quark! What are you doing up here?”

“Enjoying the view, same as you,” Quark said, leaning against the edge of the roof and looking at Odo.

“The view is out that way, Quark,” Odo grumped.

“Oh, is it? I didn’t know.”

Odo sighed. “What do you want, Quark?”

“I just wanted to tell you I had no part in the bet,” Quark said. “Honest.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes! It was a stupid bet.”

“Like all of your bets,” Odo said. “What was this one even for?”

Quark grimaced slightly. “Well, it kinda has to do with the fact that nobody has ever seen you eat. Ever.”

“So?” Odo asked. “I didn’t know it was a rule that other people had to see you eat.”

Quark examined him. “Odo. Nobody in five years has seen you eat one bite of food. Do you know how weird that is?”

“Not really?”

“That’s really weird! Not one crumb of food has been eaten by you. Not one!” Quark cried, exasperated. “Everyone’s beginning to wonder if you actually do eat!”

“I eat,” Odo said. “Just not in front of you.”

“Are you starving yourself? Is that why you’re so skinny?” Quark interrogated. “Because if it is, I want you to know that you don’t need to starve yourself. You have a great body!”

“I’m not starving myself, Quark!” Odo yelled.

“Good!” Quark sighed in relief. “I was getting worried.”

“You, worried? That’s a joke,” Odo scoffed.

“No it isn’t,” Quark said. “I’m really a nice guy. I care about people.”

“Sure you do. Like your parents.”

“Exactly.”

“And when they die, so you can inherit their money.”

Quark glared at Odo. “That’s not funny. Not at all.”

Odo looked at the shorter man, who had turned away. Obviously Odo had hit a nerve. Odo felt a little guilty, but he shoved it aside. It was nothing Quark didn’t deserve.

“Look, Odo, I don’t know what to say to you that I haven’t already said,” Quark sighed.

“What are you expecting from me, Quark?” Odo asked.

“I want you to stop lying to yourself. For at least a minute.”

Odo looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” Quark said, turning to go. “Because I think you know. And if you don’t, then there’s nothing I can say to you.”

“Well, good. I was hoping you’d stop talking to me.” Odo folded his arms. “It’s just unfortunate it’s taken you so long to catch on.”

Quark gave one last solemn look at him and shook his head. “Somehow, I don’t think you really mean it.”

And he left Odo to stand alone on the roof.

* * *

 

Guinan was tired of watching through the window. Laren looked like she wanted to throw something, and Reg was close to tears. Someone had to step in and do something.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Guinan said. “They don’t deserve this.”

Tasha looked up from her computer. “They did let a Klingon get away”

“Ooh, did they?” Guinan mocked. “Huh, that’s funny. I thought they were out looking for clues, not helping an innocent man escape.”

“Innocent? Guinan, he was part of a gang!” Tasha said.

“Did they find drugs on him? Did he kill someone?” Guinan asked. “Did he admit to doing any illegal activities?”

“No, but-”

“Then there you go. Innocent until proven guilty, right?”

“Well, sure, but why else would he turn himself in?” Tasha asked.

“Maybe for protection. Maybe he wanted out.”

“Well, then they still let him get away, and in that scenario he’s probably dead by now,” Tasha said.

Guinan shook her head. “Still isn’t their fault. They left that man in a room with security cameras. He was also in a _precinct_ where there are a bunch of _cops_ all over the place. None of them caught him. So how come all the blame goes to them?”

“I don’t know,” Tasha admitted. “Someone just needs the blame, and I guess it goes to them.”

“That doesn’t make it fair,” Guinan said, getting up. “It’s unfortunate that cops don’t realize what ‘unfair’ looks like.”

Tasha looked up at her. “You’re too good just to be a detective. More people like you need to be in positions that can make change.”

“Oh, you can make change in any level,” Guinan said. “You’ve just got to work at it a bit more.”

Guinan approached Picard’s office. The closer she got, the clearer Laren and Reg got, and the more Guinan felt pity for them. Picard’s yelling got louder with each step she took.

Poor kids, she thought to herself. They didn’t deserve any of this. If no security camera or officer could catch the Klingon, then how were they supposed to when they weren’t even at the precinct?

She knocked loudly on the Captain’s door. Picard abruptly stopped shouting at the two.

“Come in,” he commanded.

She stepped in the door and looked right at Laren and Reg. Reg’s leg was bouncing up and down faster than the speed of light. Guinan thought she saw tears swimming in his eyes, but he blinked and they were gone. Laren was tearing down the office wall with a deadpan stare. Her jaw was set and her arms were folded so tightly, she looked like she was made of stone.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard, on the other hand, was quite visibly enraged. He was standing in a power stance, his hands firmly placed on his desk, staring down the two detectives.

“I sure hope I’m interrupting,” Guinan said sarcastically.

Picard looked up at Guinan, his eyes still venomous. “Guinan.”

“Captain,” she said, still employing the same level of sass.

“You may go,” he told the detectives.

Reg scampered out of the office as quickly as he possibly could, and Laren dragged herself out behind him. Guinan saw Deanna stop them and pull them over to her desk, most likely to talk. Deanna was one of the kindest souls on the force.

“How long are you going to keep them in the doghouse?” Guinan asked, crossing her arms in obvious disapproval.

“As long as they need to be there,” Picard said.

“You know it’s not their fault, right?”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s not entirely, no. But it did still impede a larger investigation anyway.”

“They’re good detectives, Jean-Luc, it’s not like they intended for this to happen,” she told him.

“I’m sure they didn’t, but they still need to learn a thing or two about responsibility,” he said. “They’re like children.

“So that’s why you dislike them so much.”

“I don’t dislike them,” Picard objected.

“Oh, really? Everyone knows you’re not a fan of the two. Even they know. I can see it in your eyes right now,” Guinan said. “And I could see it last night, too.”

Picard ignored her comment. “How’s your dog?”

“Much better,” she said. “Do you want to know why?”

Picard gave her a sidelong glance. “Why?”

“Because I gave him love and attention,” she said. “I find that always works. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“No? I thought you just admitted to putting two good ones in the doghouse.”

Guinan left his office and closed the door, not paying any attention to his caviling.

Deanna looked up at her as she reentered the detective’s room. “You know, I’m pretty sure you’re one of the very few people who can go in there and actually complain.”

“You do what you can with what you’ve got.” Guinan pulled up a chair to Deanna’s desk. “Is that chocolate?”

“Mhm,” Deanna said, offering her a bar. “I find it always helps when you’re down. Actually, I think it helps at any given point. Want some?”

“Yes please.” She took the bar and looked at Laren and Reg.

Barclay was nervously scarfing down the chocolate, his eyes wild and quite confused. Laren was biting her chocolate angrily and glaring in the direction of Picard’s office.

“Look, guys,” Guinan said. “Don’t dwell on it too long. A mistake was made, but it wasn’t all yours. Okay?”

Reg nodded, and Laren sighed loudly, but didn’t argue. She just snapped off another piece of chocolate and chewed it forcefully.

“I don’t get why the captain doesn’t like us,” she sulked. “I mean, Reg here’s done a crap ton for this place and I’ve literally never done anything to warrant any of this.”

“You know, I just think the two of you remind him of himself when he was younger. He holds a lot of resentment for his past. I don’t think either of you did anything wrong,” Guinan said.

“Well, I hope not,” Reg said. “I don’t want to get fired.”

“I don’t think you’d get fired for this, Reg,” Deanna comforted him. “The captain can forget that people make errors every now and then, but I don’t think he’d forget all the good things you’ve done. Those outweigh anything like this.”

“Yeah, remember when you singlehandedly stopped that diamond heist last year? That was awesome!” Guinan said. “Laren, didn’t you find that one Maquis base all by yourself?”

“Yeah,” Laren said glumly. “I still regret it, too. That one old guy was super nice.”

“But look at how valuable the two of you are,” Deanna said. “You think Captain Picard would fire you for one mistake of this small magnitude when you’ve already made up for it ten thousand times over through your work?”

“To be fair,” Reg said, “I always think he’s going to fire me.”

“Same here,” Laren said.

“Well, he’s not going to,” Guinan said. “As long as I still work in this precinct, Captain Jean-Luc Picard will not fire Reginald Barclay or Laren Ro. You got me?”

Reg mumbled “I got you” while Laren took a less hostile bite of her chocolate.

“Now, you want to see a picture of my new puppy?” Guinan asked in hopes of cheering the two up.

Deanna was suddenly very close to Guinan’s face. “Show me the picture. Now.”

“Okay, geez.” Guinan pulled out her phone and flipped through her pictures until she found her favorite. Deanna immediately pulled the phone from her hands. “Woah, careful. That is Pepper. He’s about eight months old.”

“Tasha! Get over here and look at this dog!” Deanna shrieked.

Tasha’s head popped up over Deanna’s shoulder in an instant. “Oh my god, what kind of dog is that? He’s so cute!”

“He’s a Vizsla, and he’s probably the most energetic and loving dog I have ever met in my life. Data and Geordi brought Spot over to meet him. It was a mistake, because that cat only likes a few things in this world,” Guinan said.

“Me,” Barclay said happily. “Spot loves me.”

“And not my dog, apparently,” Guinan said.

Laren was desperately trying to see over Tasha and Deanna, who were hoarding Guinan’s phone.

“I’m sure he’s cute, Guinan, but I can’t tell,” she said, still craning her neck in every direction.

“How’d you like to see him in real life?” Guinan asked.

Deanna’s attention snapped away from the phone. “Bring this dog to me. I want to meet him.”

“Only if you promise not to feed him chocolate,” Guinan said. “You can’t kill my dog.”

“I would never!” Deanna gasped.

Tasha nodded. “It’s true. I think the only thing Deanna likes more than chocolate is dogs.”

“Bring Pepper, please!” Deanna pleaded. “I need to meet him!”

“Yeah, I’d like to actually see this dog,” Laren agreed.

“Reg, do you want to meet Pepper?” Guinan asked him.

He shook his head. “Um. Dogs are a bit too much for me. I think I’m going to have to pass, sorry.”

“Bring. The. Dog.” Deanna stared Guinan down.

And so Guinan made a mental note to bring her dog in to work.

* * *

 

“Asshole!” Kira hollered at the car behind her. “You’re all assholes!”

She always hated the drive home. She hated the people she drove in front of. She hated the people she drove behind. She hated traffic. She hated the car she drove. She hated the music that played on the radio. She hated that her air conditioning didn’t work right.

She honked her horn and the guy driving the stupid Chevy truck behind her honked right back. She grumbled and flipped him off. He didn’t see it, of course, but it made her feel better.

She flipped through the stations on her radio. They all sounded like crap. She stopped on one at random. It was playing some stupid song in French. She turned the volume up and glared out the window, hating the whole world.

The song was long and had a bouncy feel to it, but Kira wasn’t in a bouncy mood. The next French song that played was angry, which was more like what she felt. After that song had run its course, she turned the radio off, sure that the next song that played would probably piss her off more.

The ride home was long and awful, and Kira shouted at least three more times at drivers that didn’t know what they were doing. She knew they were probably shouting at her in their own cars, but she knew for a fact that she was angrier. Nobody was ever as angry as her.

“I can’t believe it’s only Tuesday,” she moaned, dragging herself up the stairs to her apartment. “There’s three more days until the weekend. I can’t make it.”

She unlocked the apartment and threw her purse inside. She slammed the door shut and flung herself onto her sofa, groaning as loudly as possible. She did not want to get up to make herself dinner.

She lay on her back, staring at the white ceiling. She didn’t move for about ten minutes. She debated whether or not she actually wanted to make food. In the end, her laziness won and she dug out her phone to call for pizza.

“Hello? Yes, I’d like a medium cheese pizza. No, scratch that, I want a medium stuffed crust cheese pizza,” she demanded.

She felt bad for the poor kid on the other side of the phone, who dropped his pen twice and apologized fiercely both times. She had to repeat her order each time.

Twenty minutes passed slowly as she waited for her food. When it arrived, she raced to pay the delivery girl and yanked the pizza out of her hands.

“Thank you,” she said, shutting the door on the confused girl’s face.

She set the pizza box down on the island in her kitchen that she used for a table. She opened the box and ripped out two pieces, folding them onto each other.

“It’s a pizza sandwich!” she remembered her dad saying. “Twice as good as a normal piece of pizza.”

She missed her dad immensely. He was the one person she thought she could ever really love. Her mom had left when she was little. She’d run away with someone in the Cardassian gang. Apparently they ended up murdering her in the end. Kira’s brothers moved on as soon as they could, and she hadn’t heard from them in many years. Her dad, though, had stayed with her through thick and thin. He used to be her rock and her guide. He was taken from her when she was eighteen and murdered. Again, it was the Cardassians.

“If only you could see me now, dad,” she remarked to herself. “I’m sure you’d be disappointed in me.”

Her dad was religious, and he had urged her to be, too. She wasn’t so sure if she was back then, and now she was certain she wasn’t.

“I haven’t prayed in, what, years? And now…” Kira sighed. “Now I’m in love with another woman. Whatcha think of that, pops?”

At that moment, the top of the pizza box fell.

“Huh. Figures,” she grumbled, hoisting it back open.

She never heard her dad’s opinions on any LGBT+ matters, but she had convinced herself that if he was still alive, he certainly wouldn’t be accepting. It made her feel disgusted with herself, but she couldn’t escape the feeling that he would be homophobic.

She looked at the picture of the Niners she kept on the kitchen island. It was the one she had taken after their infamous baseball game with another precinct. The Niners had lost, much to Sisko’s chagrin, but it was one of her favorite memories.

In the picture, Kira had her arms wrapped around Jadzia, who had one of her own laying on Kira’s shoulders and the other draped across Sisko’s. Quark was laying with his head propped up on an arm in the dirt in front and Nog and Jake were kneeling behind him. Julian and Miles were side-hugging on one side, while Odo was standing awkwardly on the other. Quark’s brother and Nog’s father Rom and Rom’s wife Leeta were in the background with Jadzia’s sister, Ezri, and Kasidy Yates, Sisko’s wife, was holding Sisko’s hand in the air on the opposite side to Jadzia.

Kira just stared at the tiny version of herself hugging Jadzia in the picture. Thinking back to the moment when the picture was taken, she remembered how much she had wanted to take Jadzia’s face in her hands and kiss her. She was about to do it, too, but then she had stupidly thought of what her father would think and hugged her instead.

She sighed and found a bottle of wine and a glass. The label said it was a cranberry wine, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to drink something. She dumped the wine into the wineglass, unconcerned with the amount she poured.

Eating her pizza sandwich and drinking the wine, she sat back on her sofa and flicked on the TV.

“…this Friday for the former Federation Commissioner…” a voice from the TV said.

Kira frowned and turned the volume up. “What about a former Commissioner?”

“Sato passed away at eleven this morning, surrounded by her best friend and former Assistant Commissioner, Travis Mayweather and her wife and fellow officer T’Pol Sato,” a reporter crooned. She didn’t seem like she actually cared about what she was saying.

“Damn,” Kira said. “That’s tragic.”

Kira didn’t know anything about Commissioner Sato, other than she retired back when Kira was first thinking about being a police officer about seventeen years ago.

They were showing pictures of a younger Commissioner Sato, and Kira was immediately awed. She was hot. And so was her wife.

There was a picture of the Sato wedding that apparently occurred a few years ago. The two women were old, but radiant. The love the two shared was clearly visible.

“And they had to wait so long to actually get married,” Kira griped. “How long did the two have to wait to even tie the knot?”

The uninterested reporter answered her question in a false bubbly voice. “Commissioner and Commander Sato had held an unofficial wedding ceremony fifty years ago, but they were unfortunately unable to hold an official one.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Kira yelled at the lifeless reporter. “They were together for fifty plus years, and yet they still couldn’t get married for real?”

She shook her head, furious, and shut the TV off.

“Happy now, dad?” she called out to the empty apartment. “You’ve got me and my sins tucked away forever!”

Kira tipped back the wineglass and drank it all in one go. She finished the pizza in her hand and went back to the kitchen island. She closed the pizza box and stuffed it into her nearly empty fridge. She hadn’t gone grocery shopping in months.

She poured more wine into her glass. “I really have no self-preservation skills, do I? I’m even yelling at a dead man.”

Turning the TV back on, she sat back down on her couch. They were still discussing the death of the Commissioner in expressionless tones. She switched the channel, not up to feeling sad about someone she never met.

She stopped on a reality show, happy to be angry again. Some brainless celebrity was documenting their pointless existence, pretending like it actually mattered. Kira counted three sexist jokes and one racist joke in the span of five minutes. She switched the channel again, utterly disgusted.

“You all are such shitty people,” she snarled. “You think just cause you’re famous you can get away with crap like this.”

The channel she landed on was showing a nature documentary on penguins. Some British man was talking about the food chain down in Antarctica. A leopard seal appeared on the screen and began to chase a penguin. Kira couldn’t tell if she was fascinated or appalled. She decided on the former after watching the penguin pop out of the water and onto ice with grace.

She finished her wine and set the wineglass onto the side table next to the sofa. She pulled off the blanket that lay on top of the sofa and spread it over her. She fluffed up a pillow and put it under her head, settling down to watch the penguin documentary.

There was a significant amount of prattle coming from the British reporter, so she muted the TV and snuggled up tighter. She watched penguins flip and glide through the water. She didn’t even care what type of penguins they were, but she found them to be both funny and beautiful in their own strange way.

Kira was almost asleep by the time they showed penguin sitting on an egg. She blinked herself awake and unmuted the documentary.

“… as the father Emperor penguin sits on the egg, the mother penguin goes out to sea to catch fish,” droned the British man. “This is another example in the animal kingdom how it is imperative to have both a mother and a father-”

The program cut out as Kira slammed the off button on the remote.

“I get it, dad!” she screamed at the imaginary ghost haunting her. “I’m never going to find anyone! Just the way you want it.”

She cried for nearly half an hour before falling back to sleep on her sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for bad editing again


	5. Data/Worf/Julian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 days later  
> Friday, May 18th

Data sat on the center of the bed and glanced down at his watch.

“Geordi, you shall have to ‘get a move on’ if we are to be on time,” he called.

“Yeah, yeah, hold on,” came his fiancé’s response.

Geordi walked into the room, and did a slow twirl. “Suit look okay?”

“Your suit is functional,” Data replied.

“How about my tie?” Geordi asked, fiddling with it. “I think it moved. Is it straight?”

Data stood to fix the tie. “It is straight now.”

“Unlike me,” Geordi said. “I’m very not straight.”

“I am well aware, Geordi,” Data said. “If you were straight, you would not be engaged to me.”

Geordi grimaced. “What an awful thought.”

“I find it likewise unsettling,” Data agreed. “I do not like to think of such an existence. I am unsure that I would be as satisfied as I am now.”

“Why Data, you’re a romantic!” Geordi kissed his cheek. “You’re in your uniform, right?”

“I am.”

“Ooh.” A wide grin spread across Geordi’s face. “I love a man in uniform.”

“You are also very adequate in your suit.”

“Mm, say anything more and I’m not gonna want to leave.”

Geordi put a hand on Data’s cheek and stroked his thumb over his cheekbone. Data always loved when he did that. Geordi pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

Geordi sighed when they broke apart. “I guess we should be going.”

On the way out, Geordi blew a kiss to Spot, who was eating her breakfast of cat food. Data warned Spot that if she should misbehave, there would be no treats when they got back. Spot did not stop eating. She did not understand Data, for she was a cat.

Data locked the door and turned the handle to make sure that it was indeed locked. Satisfied that it was, he followed Geordi down the stairs and out to the front door of the apartment complex.

It was raining outside, and Data stuck his hand out from under the awning just outside the door. The rain was light, and posed no real danger if the two hurried to the car.

“It is a light rain,” Data said. “I do not believe we shall get too wet if we are quick.”

Geordi grumbled lightly as they pushed through the rain and to the car. Data quickly pulled his keys out of his coat pocket and unlocked the car. Geordi was still unhappy as he entered on the passenger’s side.

As Data turned on the car, cold jets of air blasted from the vents. It would seem Data had forgotten to switch the air conditioning to a lower setting after the drive home from work the day before. He turned the knob to the lowest notch, and turned up the heat slightly.

“Did we even know Commissioner Sato?” Geordi asked.

“As you imply that you did not know her, and as I had never met her myself, I would say we did not know her,” Data said. “If you are referring to the precinct as a whole, then I do not know. There are very few people on our squad that were around in the period that Commissioner Sato was on the force.”

“I think only Captain Picard and Dr. Crusher were around back then,” Geordi said. “Maybe we should ask them.”

“We should?” Data inquired.

“I said maybe. I don’t actually know if we should or not. When it comes to funerals, I understand as much as you,” Geordi admitted.

“Then you know very little,” Data said. “This leaves us in an unfortunate situation if neither of us know proper funeral etiquette.”

“Very unfortunate.”

Geordi and Data sat in a comfortable silence for the duration of the ride. As he drove, Data thought the rain was aesthetically pleasing. The silver clouds had a nice contrast against the green trees that lined the edges of the streets.

Commissioner Hoshi Sato’s funeral was to be held at a church in a nicer part of the city. Captain Picard had made the detectives aware that the original plan was to have the funeral outside. However, the weather had forced the commissioner’s family to relocate to the nearby church.

Data rounded the final corner and saw the church. It was a very tall and covered a significant amount of ground. The parking lot would have been spacious if it was empty, but the vast area was filled with cars. There was a sign immediately to the left as Data turned into the lot. The top said “St. Michael’s Church” in white letters on a maroon background, and the bottom read “FRIDAY MAY 18TH 10:00 SATO FUNERAL SERVICE” in large block letters.

The parking lot was nearly filled, and Data had to drive through two rows to find a parking spot. Unfortunately, the first one he found had a large puddle under it. He knew Geordi would not be pleased with such a puddle, and he kept looking for a decent spot. He found one a few spaces down with a much smaller puddle. He pulled into the spot.

“Hold on,” Data told Geordi. “I will grab the umbrella and meet you on your side, so as to keep you dry.”

“Aw, thanks!” Geordi said.

Data exited the vehicle and found the rain had slackened. It had become a significantly lighter drizzle. He pulled the large black umbrella from the trunk of the car and unfurled it.

Data opened Geordi’s door. “I have found us a spot with nearly no puddle beneath it.”

“That’s good,” Geordi said, getting out.

“Unfortunately, we have quite a ways to walk. While it was the first available parking space with a small puddle, it is not close to the entrance,” Data stated.

“That’s less good,” Geordi said. “Well, at least the rain’s calmed down a bit. Don’t let me walk through a puddle.”

“I will not,” Data said, offering his arm to Geordi, “let you walk through any puddles. It may be difficult, though. There are quite a lot of puddles, and many are quite large.”

Geordi groaned. “Let’s just go home then. We didn’t know the commissioner, nobody would take it personally if we just left.”

“You were not around when the captain mentioned that it was mandatory for the detectives to appear,” Data informed him. “While it is possible for you to go home, I would be unable to go with you.”

“Fine, I’ll stay,” Geordi sighed. “I expect some serious cuddling when we get home to make up for this, though.” 

“It is a deal,” Data promised as they began their trek to the church.

* * *

 

Worf tugged on his tie. It was far too restricting.

“Don’t touch it, I’ll just have to fix it again,” Guinan chided. “And then I’ll tighten it even more.”

Worf eyed her carefully. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Yes, I would,” Guinan said. “I’d strangle you with it if I had to.”

Worf glared and let go of his tie. He was not about to ignore Guinan’s threats. He had known her far too long to think she wouldn’t act out on them. Guinan was to be both respected and feared.

“I still do not understand why I am here,” he said. “I have no ties to Commissioner Sato or her family and friends.”

“Oh, yes, you do,” Guinan said. “You’re a part of the Enterprise. So was she. Every Enterprise member was invited.”

“I stopped being a part of the 17th precinct as of this Monday,” he said. “By your rationale, I should not be here.”

“But you were. That’s the point. Miles O’Brien is here, too,” she pointed to the O’Brien family. “See?”

Miles O’Brien was standing off to the side of the church, holding his daughter, Molly. His wife Keiko was holding Kirayoshi, their son. Not one member of the family looked happy. Molly and Kirayoshi appeared to have been crying recently, and their parents looked tired and grumpy. There had evidentially been a temper tantrum on the way over.

“So, how’s life with the Deep Space Niners?” Guinan asked.

“Horrible,” Worf said. “They are incompetent and cannot do any work for the lives of them.”

“Oh? How so?”

“They sit around and gamble all of the time,” Worf growled. “There is not one thing left on this earth that they haven’t bet on.”

“Sounds like fun,” Guinan said.

“That’s the problem,” he said. “Too much fun. Nobody does any work. They just sit around and bet on things.”

“We could use a bit of that,” she said. “Enterprise is too much work and not enough fun.”

“Exactly the way it should be.”

“Easy for you to say.” She frowned at him. “You’re the kind of guy who thinks his work is as fun as life gets.”

“But it is!” Worf protested.

Guinan just shook her head.

“How is Detective Ro?” Worf asked.

“Oh, she’s doing great!” Guinan said. “She and Reg have been doing really well together. She misses you, though.”

“I have already been replaced?”

“I wouldn’t say replaced. Your empty spot was filled. No one’s going to replace you, especially not Reg. He just fills a hole. He does a really good job at it, too.”

“I don’t see how Detective Barclay,” Worf snarled, “could substitute for me. Ro must hate him.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. They’re working like clockwork,” Guinan said. “She’s a lot less angry and he’s a lot less timid.”

“Ro, a lot less angry. I fail to see how this is a good thing. Ro loves to be angry,” Worf said.

“Maybe so,” she replied. “But she also likes being happy. Working with Reg gives her a chance to be both.”

Geordi and Data walked in the church. Data was holding a wet, collapsed umbrella in one hand and Geordi’s hand in the other. Data leaned over to whisper something into Geordi’s ear. Geordi’s eyebrows shot straight up and he gave Data a playful slap. Data looked almost pleased with himself.

“I take it everyone else is also well?” Worf asked Guinan.

“For the most part, yeah,” she said. “We all miss you and it’s not the same.”

“Who won at game night?”

“You know I’m no longer allowed to even acknowledge that game night exists around you, right?” Guinan asked. “Besides, I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. I wasn’t there.”

“I am also unable to relate what occurred,” Data said as he and Geordi approached. “However, if one were to use force to extract the information from either one of us, we would have to say that Sergeant Riker won poker.”

“And in an odd turn of events,” Geordi said, “our team won Pictionary.”

“Oh, how’d you like my version?” Guinan asked.

“Well, I personally found it unfair,” Geordi said. “But I think everyone else enjoyed it a lot.”

“Sorry,” Guinan said.

“Where is everyone else?” Data asked. “I do not see them in this crowd.”

“Captain Picard is paying his respects to the family, Deanna and Tasha are late, Riker is off flirting with some poor girls,” Guinan said, “Laren is standing by herself in the corner, and Reg looks like he’s being forced to talk to someone.”

“Oof, how’s that going?” Geordi asked.

“I’ll just say this, Reg does not look happy,” Guinan chuckled. “I think someone should save him.”

“I shall go. I am perfectly capable of redirecting a conversation. Reginald shall have a chance to escape,” Data said, removing his hand from Geordi’s. He left the group and sidestepped into the one sided conversation Barclay was standing in on.

It was no time at all before Barclay had slipped away from whoever was talking to him. Data was chatting merrily away while Barclay joined the small group. Worf, who was not particularly fond of him, stepped back slightly as Barclay stood across from him.

“I don’t understand how he can _do_ that,” Barclay proclaimed. “I mean, I couldn’t even get a word in, but Data just popped right in there and started talking.”

“It’s his gift.” Geordi slipped his hand into the crook of the elbow Barclay had offered him. “Data can talk about anything any time.”

“Wish I could do that,” Barclay said downheartedly. “I’d probably talk to more people.”

Worf was very glad that Barclay couldn’t. He did not want Barclay to talk more. Barclay irritated Worf to no end, and he was one of the very few reasons Worf was glad that he was transferred.

It appeared Ro had noticed Worf and she came to join the group.

“Hey, Reg!” Apparently, she had not noticed him. “I saw you talking to Inspector Riley.”

“That was Inspector Riley?” Barclay paled.

“You didn’t know?” Ro asked.

“No…”

“Oh dear,” Ro said. “What were the two of you talking about? Nothing awful, I hope.”

“Well, we weren’t exactly talking. I mean, he was. I wasn’t,” Barclay said.

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Ro advised. “We still need to work on your other people skills.”

Guinan smiled at her. “Yes, I was just talking to Worf about how well the two of you were getting along.”

Ro finally noticed him. “Worf!”

Worf accepted her hug. “I am glad to see you, too, Ro.”

“It’s only been four days and I miss you so much!” Ro exclaimed, still holding tightly to Worf’s neck.

This is how Captain Picard, who had just finished paying his respects to Commissioner Sato’s family and friends, found the two.

“While I feel deeply for this loss, too, I think we should sit down. The service is about to start. We can grieve afterwards,” he said, incorrectly judging the situation.

Ro pulled away from Worf and hid a smile. “Yes, sir.”

Worf and Captain Picard held back as Guinan, Ro, Barclay and Geordi headed for a pew. Worf watched as Data excused himself from his conversation with Investigator Riley to join back with Geordi.

“How is the new precinct treating you?” Captain Picard asked quietly.

“They are not unfriendly, sir,” Worf said. “In fact, they are slightly too friendly.”

“And how is your new captain?” Captain Picard asked as they made their way to the pew. “Captain Sisko?”

“He is a good captain, but nothing like you,” Worf replied.

“Well, that’s… good,” said Captain Picard as he sat down. He was sitting at the end of the pew, while Worf was in between him and Data.  Slowly the conversations died down, and the service began.

The first speaker was the former Assistant Commissioner Travis Mayweather. He was an old man in his eighties, yet he seemed to be spry for his age. He spent his allotted time speaking about how Commissioner Sato had brought change to Federation, both as a police officer and as a friend.

Commissioner Sato’s daughter, Elizabeth Sato, spoke next. She mentioned how much her mothers loved each other, and how much Commissioner Sato did for the LGBT+ community. Worf looked over at Commander T’Pol Sato, who was sitting stoically, watching her daughter speak.

There were multiple other people who came up to the front of the church to talk about Commissioner Hoshi Sato, all of which told tales about how wonderful she was. According to many, she was an avid linguist and an inspiring leader. Many speakers were friends or family; however, the last speaker was neither. It was, in fact, the current commissioner, Commissioner Kirk.

“Now, I’m sure all of you know who I am,” he began, “But I’m not sure how many of you know my history with Commissioner Hoshi Sato. Of course, back when I met her, she was Lieutenant Sato. I was a new officer in the 17th precinct, which is known by inhabitants as “Enterprise”. She was one of the first to welcome me to the squad. It wasn’t long until Captain Archer retired and Sato stepped up. She was probably the best captain we had. She was equal parts strict and kind. She did not stay our captain long, though, as she rose through the ranks quickly. I’d like to think myself fortunate to have followed in her footsteps. She was a great role model as an officer and a fellow member of the LGBT+ community. I shall repeat something she once said to me, in hopes that it will inspire you all, too. She said, ‘If you cannot live your best life the way you are living it, then stop living that lie. Be true to you.’ In her memory, I’d like you all to remember to be true to yourself in order to live your best life. Thank you.” __

* * *

 

“Oh, crap crap crap,” Julian said, tucking in his shirt hurriedly. “Crap crap crap crap crap!”

It was already 9:15. It was going to take him a thirty five minute taxi ride to get to The Replimat, and Julian was nowhere near ready. He fumbled to put on his shoes.

In the bathroom, Julian brushed and flossed his teeth, just in case. He honestly wasn’t sure what he was to expect on a date with Elim Garak, he hardly knew anything about him. He fluffed his hair and inspected his face. When he was sure he didn’t look completely terrible, he stuffed his wallet and keys in his pockets and dashed out to the waiting taxi.

“Um, Sinclair and 19th, please,” he said. He double checked the address on his phone. “Yeah.”

The taxi driver didn’t respond, she just took off. Julian wasn’t sure if she was okay, because she kind of looked angry. He wondered if it was him or if it was something else. He decided it was none of his business.

He spent most of the ride trying not to think of the date, because he was sure that if he did, he would puke. He was very nervous; he wanted Garak to like him. Which was kind of ridiculous, when he thought about it, because he’d just met the man. They didn’t know anything about each other. Julian hadn’t honestly been on many first dates and wasn’t sure if any of this was normal or not.

By the time the taxi had reached Sinclair and 19th, Julian had worked himself into such a tizzy that he was almost shaking. He paid the angry taxi driver and hopped out.

He had to walk about a half a block before he found the bar. He stared up at the large neon sign above the doorway that read “The Replimat” in a wonky font. He checked his watch. 9:57, three minutes early. Julian sighed and pushed into the bar.

He was immediately in awe. It was like some mystical mix between reality and a bar, split only by a thin white line painted on the floor and over the bar counter that traveled all the way to the back. On one half, families were eating happily. Julian spotted a boy of about five laughing over a basket of chicken nuggets, while his dad blew bubbles into his ice water. It was, in essence, a happy family restaurant. The other side filled with buff men in tattoos, a pool table, and beer. He watched a wiry haired woman sink a ball into a pocket in the pool table, and cheers and boos erupted from almost everyone on the side. Julian whipped his head to look at the families. None of them seemed phased.

Julian was trying to wrap his head around the place when he heard that flowery voice call his name. Elim Garak and his dazzling smile sat just to the right of the line at the bar counter. In a daze, Julian walked over and sat down next to him, just to the left of the line, on the bar side.

“Hello Julian Bashir,” Elim Garak said. “You are two minutes early.”

“I’m sorry,” Julian said. “I wasn’t sure if I should wait outside or just come in, so…”

“Oh, I am by no means looking for an apology, my dear detective,” Garak cooed. “On the contrary, I’m very pleased that I get to spend two extra minutes with you.” He handed Julian a glass of some sweet smelling alcoholic beverage and took a sip of his own.

Julian blushed and accepted it. “So am I.”

“Mm,” Garak purred. He smiled at Julian. “So, what can you tell me about yourself?”

“Oh!” Julian blinked. “I don’t know. There’s not much to tell.”

“There must be,” Garak said. “A detective such as yourself must have a few things to say about their life.”

Julian racked his brains. “Well, I’m a detective. Which you know. I’m an only child. Oh, I wanted to be a doctor for a long time when I was younger. And I play a lot of tennis. I guess that’s really it.”

“Surely that can’t be all,” Garak said. He perched his chin on one hand and studied Julian carefully.

“No, I suppose not,” Julian said, flustered. He honestly didn’t know what he was supposed to do or say.

“Why don’t you tell me a fun story about yourself?” Garak suggested.

“Alright.” Julian racked his brains for a second. “Oh, there’s this one story about how I missed a question on a test and became second in my class-”

And so Julian plunged into his tale about how he mistook one thing for another and the hilarity behind the whole thing. It lead into another story about his almost-career as a doctor. Garak sat silently the whole time, drinking in every word.

“-and so that’s why I’m a detective, not a doctor,” Julian finished. “What about you? What is Elim Garak like?”

“Ah, well,” Garak's smile never left his face. “I can honestly say there is far less to tell about me than there is you.”

Julian snorted. “I highly doubt that. You’re an informant, that’s got to have some backstory.”

“It has one, yes,” Garak said. Whatever the backstory was, he did not share it.

“Okay, then,” Julian sighed. “What about your job? What does Mr. Garak do for a living?”

“What would you guess that I am?” Garak asked.

“Well, from what I know about you,” Julian said, “I’d say you’re a spy.”

Garak laughed. “What I am, my dear detective, is a tailor. I have a shop a few blocks from my apartment.”

Julian wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. “What about your family? Your childhood?”

“I have one and I had one,” was all that Garak would say on either subject.

Julian was beginning to get frustrated with Garak. “You don’t say much about yourself.”

“I believe that I don’t need to say much,” Garak said. “All that you need to know has already been placed in front of you. You just need to find it and understand, detective.”

“Is this like the laissez faire approach you mentioned the other day?” Julian asked.

“I’m glad you remembered,” Garak said.

“So you’re not going to tell me anything about yourself, then?”

“I’ve already told it all to you. You simply need to open your eyes and see it.” Garak spread his hands in a welcoming manner.

“Can I at least ask you about your lizard?” Julian really hoped at least that question would get answered.

“Ah, you mean Tain?” Julian was shocked to get an actual answer. “I hate that creature.”

“You do? Why? And why do you have him if you hate him?”

“Tain is named after my father. He is a reminder of a past I am not proud of. He’s with me to remind me of what I am and what I have to both lose and gain by each choice I make.”

“That’s pretty deep,” Julian said.

“My dear detective, this whole world is deep. Nothing is as simple as it ever seems,” Garak gestured around. “Look at us, in the crossroad between chaos and order. We are at the heart of the soul, surrounded by the scum of the earth and the hopes of the world, and here we sit.”

“Which are we?” Julian inquired.

“Well, Julian Bashir, that all depends on your perspective, now, doesn’t it?” Garak took a sip of his drink, clearly not willing to divulge anything else.

The two lapsed into a silence. Garak didn’t seem daunted by it, and so Julian just let it be. He watched Garak, in hopes to gain some of the things Garak had apparently laid out for him.

Julian was studying him carefully as Garak turned his head to ask the bartender for another drink, and noticed something on the side of his neck, almost invisible behind Garak’s hair and high collar.

“You’re a Cardassian!” Julian gasped.

Garak turned back to him. The warmth in his smile had turned into something icy. “Am I?”

Julian blinked. “I… don’t know…”

The icy grin melted back into a warm one. “Ah, you were so close. Keep thinking the way you did, Julian, and you’ll go far.”

Julian wasn’t sure where Garak expected him to go, but he ignored it. He wasn’t done with the whole Cardassian thing just yet.

“You are, aren’t you? Or at least, you were at some point. Is that how you get your information?”

“Julian, we are on a date, not in an interrogation room. If you are inquiring about my past, it should be due to personal curiosity and the wish to know me better, not because your boss asked you to get more information out of me.”

“How did you-”

“It was written on your face,” Garak said. “Really, are you even paying any attention to any of the things I’ve been saying to you?”

Julian thought for a second to choose his words correctly. “Well… haven’t you been saying that what you’re trying to tell me isn’t in words? So, really, do I even need to pay attention to what you’re saying?”

“Oho,” Garak chuckled. “You’re quite clever, aren’t you? You’re a far better detective than I even hoped.”

It was Julian’s turn to accuse. “I thought this was a date. If you wanted to give me a lesson in spying-or whatever it is you do-then I suggest you come with me to an interrogation room.”

Now Garak really laughed. It was a deep and pleasant laugh, and it made Julian feel all fuzzy inside.

“My word, you’ve got spunk. I like you a lot.” And Elim Garak pulled Julian in and kissed him.

The world spun around a few times and he felt dizzy. So he closed his eyes and kissed back. He felt fireworks all up and down his body, and he kissed harder. He didn’t want to stop.

Eventually, after what felt like a blissful eternity, he had to. Garak pulled away from him, sparks in his eyes. Julian sighed softly and stared into them. They were so incredible.

Julian didn’t know what he was doing. He still didn’t know anything about this Garak . He actually felt like he knew him less now than he did before. But, god, did he want to figure it out. He wanted to know everything, from his favorite color to his worst fear. There was nothing he wanted more than to know Elim Garak.

Garak held out his hand to Julian. “Would you like to take a walk? I’m afraid we’ll have to go whether you want to or not, I’m not sure how kind the families behind me are.”

While the bar side of The Replimat either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the kiss, the restaurant side certainly did. The father of the boy eating chicken nuggets was glaring at them, and a few other families had similar reactions.

“How do I know you won’t just hand me over to the Cardassians? For all I know, you’re spying on me.”

Garak grinned. “You’re absolutely right, I could be. But you’d have to figure that out, now wouldn’t you?”

“So I have two choices. Sit here and get mauled by unhappy straight families, or go with you and possibly get handed over to a gang?”

“Oh, you have far more choices than that,” Garak said. “But the fact that you’ve only chosen those two means you’ve decided to come with me, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it apparently does,” Julian said, and he threw down money for his drink.

He took Garak's offered hand and walked out of The Replimat.

“Where do you suppose we should go now?” Julian asked, looking up at the neon sign with sadness. He probably would never enter that place again if those families had anything to do about it.

“Would you like to go see a movie?” Garak offered. “I don’t know much about what’s out there, but I’m sure we could find something.”

“Hm, I’m sure we could,” Julian said. “And I’m sure whatever you pick will no doubt say something about your personal life, am I right?”

“Very good!” Garak sang with praise.

Julian blushed. “I was being sarcastic, but thanks.”

“As long as you understand, does it matter how you get there?”

“No, I guess not,” Julian admitted. “But I didn’t expect sarcasm to be in any way useful.”

“Now, Julian,” Garak said in mock seriousness, “do you honestly think I employ no sarcasm or sass in any of this? Where’s the fun in that?”

Julian shook his head, completely baffled. Garak let out another deep belly laugh and pulled him into motion.

“Come, my dear detective,” he said. “There’s a cozy little theatre not too far from here that I think you’d enjoy.”

Julian felt tingles rush from the hand Garak was holding. He plunged into the swarm of people, pulled by Garak and his own insane curiosity.

They went and saw some old romance picture. Julian honestly couldn’t remember the name of it, nor could he recall one single thing from the entire movie

He did, though, remember how Elim Garak kissed him under the marquee lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where the pre-written and pre-edited stuff ends. The rest I'll be writing and (poorly) editing in real time, so chapters will come out accordingly, sorry.
> 
> Kirk makes a cameo and it wont be his last.


	6. Barclay/Beverly/Miles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three days later  
> Monday, May 21st

Barclay held on to the arms of the desk chair with a death grip. Ro tried to pry his fingers off.

“Come on, Reg,” she pleaded. “It’s not that bad.”

Barclay shook his head violently. “No.”

“Reg!” She pulled on his hands with all her might. He wouldn’t budge. “It’s! Not! That! Bad!”

“Yes it is!” His voice quivered. “It’ll kill me!”

“It’s just a dog! He’s really sweet, too!”

“If Spot didn’t like him, then I don’t!”

“You can’t just hate something because Data’s cat does,” she panted. He still held on with all his might. “Then you’d just hate everything.”

“If that were true,” Barclay said, “I’d have a lot more self-confidence. Spot loves me.”

“I’m sure she does.”

“And I love Spot. I do not love dogs,” he said.

“You haven’t met Pepper! I’m sure you’d love him!”

Barclay kept his hands firmly clamped on the chair. He was not getting off it for the life of him. He remembered the last dog he met. It almost bit his face off. Deanna would disagree, but Barclay knew that dog was after him. He could feel it in his gut. And Barclay always trusted his gut.

“You know what? Fine,” Ro said. She held up her hands in defeat.

“Thank you,” he sighed with relief.

He heard her footsteps retreating, and he relaxed slightly. Unfortunately, he relaxed a little too much, because Ro came sprinting back and shoved the chair away from the desk. She began rolling it down the hall at top speed.

“You are meeting this dog,” Ro grunted. She must have been pushing it with all of the force she could muster, because the chair was moving far too fast for Barclay to feel safe enough to jump off.

“I don’t think you understand the consequences that this will bring,” he whimpered.

“The consequence will be that you love Guinan’s dog.”

“No, the consequence will be my death,” Barclay moaned. He really couldn’t escape; they were in the elevator.

“You’re not gonna _die_ , Reg.” Ro rolled her eyes. “It’s a puppy for god’s sake.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. True panic set in, and Barclay’s nails dug into the chair’s arms.

“No no no no no no no no no,” he pleaded as he was rolled out of the precinct and into the bright sunlight. “No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no…”

Barclay blinked against the sun. He saw the dog.

“NO! NO! NonononononoNO!” he shrieked.

But it was too late. The puppy was already barreling towards him, and Guinan had let go of the leash. Barclay braced for impact.

* * *

 

It was dark when Bev pulled into her driveway, absolutely beat. She really wished she had skipped the morning workout session. Taekwondo was absolutely kicking her butt.

She turned off the car and rested her head on the wheel. She groaned as she realized how sore she was. She either needed to go work out at more regular increments, or she just needed to stop all together.

It wasn’t just the physical stress that was wearing her out. Work was incredibly stressful lately. Jean-Luc was really finding ways to pile on the workload, plus he was still on her back about this mysterious “Q” thing. Adding on to that the crap from Pulaski she had to deal with, Bev was slightly surprised she didn’t just collapse and die. She felt like it, though, and that was close enough.

Bev slowly rolled back up, careful to not mess with any sore muscles. She pulled her purse off the passenger seat. She really wished she’d actually get around to cleaning her garage so she could park in it again.

She was in the process of locking her car when she noticed something was wrong. The kitchen window was lit up. Bev specifically remembered skipping breakfast at home in favor of a free protein bar at the gym, so she knew she didn’t leave the light on. She honestly couldn’t think of a reason it would be. Unless…

Bev clutched her purse close. She thought about calling Jean-Luc, but she didn’t know what she would say. Besides, she just did all that Taekwondo. She figured she would be able to protect herself if push came to shove.

She tried opening the door. It was locked. Bev sighed in relief, and unlocked it.

The rest of the house was dark. It appeared that only the kitchen light had been turned on. Or just left on. If the door was locked and the rest of the house didn’t have any lights on, then it must have just been her own memory playing tricks on her. She must have turned it on and forgotten about it in her haste to get to the gym.

She went to turn the light off, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the kitchen. The oven was on and there was something baking in it. An empty pot was sitting on her stove, and there were dishes piled in the sink.

Bev couldn’t wrap her head around it. Someone absolutely must have broken in, because there was no way she did this in the morning. But who would break in to someone’s house just to _cook?_ In all her years working at a police station, she’d never heard anything like this.

Unable to tell if she was puzzled or afraid, she stepped out of the kitchen to search the house. The stairs were the closest to the kitchen, so she crept up those first. She went up and down the hall upstairs, checking each room. The bathroom was empty, and so was the unused bedroom. Her own bedroom was vacant. She snuck back downstairs.

She peered back into the kitchen, just to double check that no one had come back to fix more food. Nothing had changed, so she tiptoed past the stairs and into the living room.

When she entered, she stood there, appalled. There was a figure sitting on her couch. Whoever it was appeared to be asleep. This just made no sense to her whatsoever. What the hell kind of break in was this?

She took a few steps toward the couch. The person was definitely asleep. She took out her phone. She didn’t turn the flashlight on in fear that she would wake them up, but she did turn the screen brightness up. Using the combined light from the kitchen and her phone, she could begin to make out a face.

Upon seeing who the person was, Bev dropped to her knees. Her phone fell to the carpet beside her. She put her face in her hands and gave a small sob.

It took her a minute to regain her composure. Tears were still streaming down her face and she wiped her nose on her coat sleeve. She got up and turned the light on, and then sat on the couch next to the sleeping person. She smiled and brushed a stray strand of hair from his face.

“Wes,” she gently said as she shook him lightly. “Wes, wake up!”

“Mmm,” her son mumbled, not really waking up.

“Wes!” She shoved him a bit harder. “Wes, for the love of all things holy, wake up!”

He opened his eyes and squinted, trying to see who was sitting next to him. A dawning look shot across his face as he focused on her face.

“Mom!”

Bev really started crying when Wesley hugged her. She hadn’t seen her son in such a long time and she had missed him so much. She held him tight and kept blubbering into his shoulder, and she didn’t let go for quite some time.

When she did, she saw a few tears on his cheeks, too. She wiped them away with her thumb.

“Jesus, Wes, you scared me half to death!” She gave a watery laugh.

“Sorry, mom,” he said.

“I was wondering why some burglar would just start _cooking_ when they broke into my house, but now I’m even more confused,” she said. “Wesley, what the _hell_ are you doing?”

“I was making food for… well, I can’t tell you yet,” Wes said.

“Oh, really?” Bev’s tone dropped into something more serious. “You come home to cook for who knows what in my kitchen? And you can’t tell me?”

“Sounds about right, yeah.” He rubbed the back off his neck sheepishly.

She shook her head. “Alright. Can I help you with… whatever you’re making?”

“Nah, it’s pretty much done,” he said. “What time is it?”

Bev picked her phone off the floor. She clicked the power button and looked at the screen. “Monday, May 21st,” it said.

“It’s 8:12,” she said. “Why?”

She could have sworn she heard him say something along the lines of someone being late, but she was tired and was probably just hearing things.

Her oven beeped from in the kitchen. Whatever Wes was making was done.

“I’ll go get that,” she said, but Wes stopped her.

“I’ve got it,” he said. “You just sit down and rest. You look tired.”

“Well, thanks,” she said sardonically. “You look wonderful, too.”

“Sorry.” He kissed her cheek. “It’ll all make sense in a bit.”

As he went back to the kitchen, she sank deeper into the couch and sighed. She pinched herself, just to make sure she wasn’t asleep. This was beginning to feel like an incredibly weird dream. And apparently it was just getting started.

There was a knock on the front door. Bev frowned and got up to investigate. She opened the door.

“Geordi?!”

“I couldn’t find the doorbell, so I just knocked,” he said. “Data’s grabbing stuff from the car.”

“The doorbell’s way far to the right, sorry. It’s not really anywhere near the door. I’ve been meaning to get that fixed. But, Geordi, what are you _doing_ here?”

“What do you mean? Is no one here yet?” Geordi asked.

“No! What on earth are you talking about?” Bev cried.

Just then, Data appeared out of the darkness, holding a box. “While we are technically late, it would appear that we are somehow early.”

“Yeah, you could have told me that before I made a complete ass of myself up here,” Geordi said.

“I apologize, Geordi,” Data said. “I was entirely focused on-”

“Please, just… come in,” Bev said, confused and exhausted to the point where she just didn’t care.

Data and Geordi thanked her and stepped inside.

“Kitchen and dining room on your right, living room on the left, stairs directly in front. You can take off your shoes and leave them right there.” Bev said, rubbing her forehead. She was just so baffled.

“Thanks, Dr. Crusher,” Geordi said. “I guess this must be pretty confusing, huh?”

“You have no idea,” she murmured as Data and Geordi removed their shoes and stepped into the living room.

Wes poked his head out of the kitchen and grinned. “Data! Geordi!”

He threw a towel back at a counter, but missed. He ignored it and ran to his friends. Bev sighed and went to pick it up.

“It’s been ages!” He said, shaking Data’s hand.

“Exactly one year,” Data said. “I hardly think that qualifies as ‘ages,’ but as Geordi sometimes says, ‘whatever floats your boat.’”

“Mmm, I don’t think that one applies in this situation,” Geordi said. “But whatever floats your boat.”

Data blinked a few times, clearly not processing it.

“I’ll explain later,” Geordi said after Data asked about it. “But for now, it’s great that you’re back, Wes!”

Back? Bev felt like she was losing her mind. She had no idea what was going on anymore.

“God, I’ve missed you guys,” Wes said, hugging Geordi.

“We’ve missed you, too. Wait a minute…” Geordi reached for Wes’s face. “Is that a beard I feel?”

“Yeah! I forgot to shave it for a few days two weeks ago, and I just kind of left it.”

Bev looked closer at her son’s face. There it was, the unmistakable sign of a growing beard. She mentally kicked herself for not noticing it sooner.

“I’ve been thinking about growing a beard myself,” Geordi said.

“Really? Why?” Wes asked.

“Oh, no reason in particular…” By the way Data’s eyebrows raised, Bev guessed that there definitely was a reason. She pushed the thought away. That was certainly none of her business.

Another knock came to the door, followed very closely by the doorbell. Bev just gave up on being confused then and there and opened the door.

Ro, Barclay, Deanna, Will, and Tasha all came spilling through the door, laughing about something. Bev told them to take their shoes off and just walked away, holding her hands up in defeat.

“Wes!” Deanna yelled as she gave him a big hug. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much!”

“Sorry we’re late,” Will said, following her hug with one of his own.

“Yeah, Reg’s van almost broke down,” Ro said. She was still breathless from laughing.

“And then we couldn’t find the right address,” Tasha added. “It was quite the ride!”

The group went on talking over each other, all of them taking their time to greet and hug Wes. Bev sat back down on the couch, rubbing her temples. She felt like she was never going to get an answer to any of her questions.

There was another knock on the door, followed again by the doorbell. She really needed to move it closer to the door.

Nobody noticed, so Bev got up herself to answer the door. She yanked it open to find Jean-Luc and Guinan, each holding a dish of food each.

“Come in,” she said unenthusiastically.

The two did as they were bid, and without being asked, removed their shoes. They’d been in her house enough to know the rules.

“You don’t sound very excited,” Guinan noted. They followed Bev into the kitchen to put their dishes down.

“Am I supposed to be? I come home from work, sore and exhausted, only to find someone had broken into my house. Except, I find after minutes of terror, it’s not a burglar who is cooking in my oven, it’s my son that I haven’t seen in a year. And then people just started showing up at my house,” Bev sighed. “I mean, seeing my son is a treat, but I’m so lost that I’ve given up.”

“You mean nobody’s told you?” Jean-Luc asked.

“Nobody has told me one single thing. It’s a secret, first. Then nobody’s here because they’re apparently late. And then everyone’s here, but they’re not giving me an explanation. I’m just done with guessing, because absolutely nothing makes sense.”

“I think your son should probably tell you,” Jean-Luc said.

“Oh sure. You can’t tell me anything either. Figures.” Bev ran a hand through her hair.

Guinan took her hand in pity, and they joined the laughing group in the living room. No one had moved since Bev had left to let in Jean-Luc and Guinan. They were all still standing. Data had yet to put his box down.

“Would someone _please_ tell me what’s going on?” Bev begged above the noise group. “It’s nice that my son is home and it’s great that you’ve all come to my house, but I’d like to know _why_.”

“You don’t know?” Deanna asked.

“NO!” Bev nearly screamed. “I have NO IDEA what is happening in my OWN HOUSE!”

All eyes turned to Wes.

“Guess it’s okay to tell you now. I’ve finished my apprenticeship. I’ve got a job now.”

“It was supposed to be a nice surprise party,” Jean-Luc said. “It quite obviously did not go as planned.”

Bev held a hand to her forehead. “No, it clearly didn’t.”

“Sorry, mom,” Wes said. “I wanted it to go better than this. It was meant to cheer you up after a long day’s work.”

“Oh, does that mean that all the stress you’ve been putting on me was just for this? And you’re going to fire Pulaski, like I’ve been asking?” Bev almost pleaded to Jean-Luc.

“Unfortunately, no,” he apologized. A deep exhale came from Geordi. Bev remembered the issues he and Data had with Pulaski.

“Damn.” Bev heaved a sigh. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, Wes, I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m not happy or anything. I’m very proud.”

“That’s alright. I think you’re allowed to be a bit upset. This did not go the way I intended at all,” admitted Wes.

“So what’s this new job you’ve got?” Bev asked.

“I’ve found a job at Bynar Technological Systems,” he said. “I’m finally a nanoengineer!”

“Congratulations!” Bev hugged her son. “You’ve wanted to work there for so long! And now you’ve finally done it!”

“Yeah,” Wes sighed happily. “I’m still processing it all.”

“I suppose you’re going to want to move back in, then?” Bev asked.

“Oh no, I know how parents always want their kids out of the house. I’ve found an apartment,” Wes said.

Bev was slightly disappointed. Wes was right, parents do want their kids to just get out. She herself was extremely happy once Wes had gone off to college. But recently she missed him like crazy. She missed the insane projects he’d do in the kitchen, she missed waking up at one in the morning to find him bent over some piece of technology or another, and she absolutely missed his presence. The house was so lonely.

“Really? Where? I hope you’re not getting an apartment by yourself, it’s not cheap.”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m rooming with Reg.”

Barclay smiled happily from outside the cluster of people. He hadn’t really been engaged in the conversation until his name was mentioned.

Bev wasn’t sure about that arrangement, but she knew Wes and Barclay were close. “Alright…”

“Okay, I made a really good pie and it’s getting colder and colder by the minute,” Guinan said. “Talk over food.”

The small crowd of people funneled into the kitchen, excited to eat whatever Jean-Luc and Wes made and pie Guinan had brought.

Bev noticed Data was still holding the box.

“Hey, Data!” she called. Data stopped and turned to Bev as the rest kept going.

“Yes, Dr. Crusher?”

“You can set the box down here, if you want,” she offered. She pointed to a small end table beside the couch.

“Thank you.” Data set it down.

“Is it okay if I ask what’s in it?”

“You may ask, yes.”

There was a beat of silence. “Well, what’s in it, then?”

“There are a few of Wesley’s old projects he handed to Geordi and me for safekeeping. As many appear to be unfinished, I would assume he would like them back,” Data said.

“Can I see?” Bev asked, gesturing to the box.

“I do not object, nor do I believe Wesley would, either,” Data said. “However, I would employ extreme caution, as many of the items are delicate and could potentially be dangerous.”

“Oh trust me, I know all about Wes’s projects,” Bev said. She dug through the box, noting multiple objects with wires. There were a few she had seen before and some she hadn’t. She held up one she didn’t recognize. “What’s this one?”

“Wesley did have a name for that particular project. I shall have to think on it for a second. Ah. I believe he said he had just chosen a name before he had given us this box.”

“And what it?” She studied the object. It was a silver, crescent-moon shaped piece of metal. The inside had a small notch in it, and the outside was covered in small, golden tines that stretched vertically. There was a small dot on the tips of the crescent-moon.

“He had said he wished to call it a ‘VISOR.’” Data stepped closer to inspect the object.

Bev looked at it harder. It could be assumed that the small notch was for the nose. “VISOR, huh? Well, let’s see if it works.”

She held the so-called VISOR up to her eyes. She noted that she could see only small slivers through it; the thin, golden rods obstructed her view. Maybe it was supposed to be a new and improved pair of sunglasses? She looked straight up at the living room light.

“Ow.” She took the VISOR away from her face and blinked. “I guess this was one of his failed experiments.”

“It would appear so,” Data said. “Or perhaps it is unfinished?”

“No. All the things I recognize in that box I know for a fact were already finished. I think this one just plain doesn’t work,” Bev said. She handed it to him, and Data studied it further for a few more seconds.

“If it is a failed project, what would you suggest we do with it? Should we discard of it?”

Bev thought for a second. “I don’t really know. I guess it’s up to you and Wes. I’d chuck it, personally. Wes never really goes back to failures.”

Data furrowed his brows and looked at the crescent-moon in his hands. Bev decided it wasn’t worth her time anymore and joined the others. Whatever Data did with it was up to him now.

She grabbed some of Guinan’s pie. It was cherry, Wes’s favorite. Bev recognized her pan next to the pie dish. Apparently Wes had made some shortbread. That meant that Jean-Luc had brought the macarons.

She sat down at the table next to Wes. “I’m glad you’re back. I hope you’ll visit me a lot. It’s lonely here without you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be wishing I’d moved off for good after the first month,” Wes said. “You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“Mm. I hope it works out with you and Broccoli.”

“I really wish I hadn’t said that. He’s a really nice guy, mom.”

“If you say so.”

“I heard about Worf’s promotion. How’s he liking it?” Wes asked through a mouthful of macaron.

“Jean-Luc says Worf’s not feeling the greatest about it. Where is he, by the way?”

Wes shrugged. “When I called to ask if he’d come, he said he was caught up with something tonight.”

“Oh! Do you know what?”

“Not really sure. He wouldn’t say…”

* * *

 

Miles took a sip of his coffee. It had gone a bit cold, but it was still drinkable. He looked at the small numbers on the car’s dashboard. It was 9:45. The drug shipment could show up at any time. He took another sip. Slightly less drinkable that time.

He looked over at Julian, who was sitting beside him reading a book. Miles tilted his head to see what it was.

“ _Vulcan Academy Murders_?” Miles asked.

“Yes. It’s one of Detective Spock’s novels. It’s about one of his cases. He’s written plenty of them. My favorites are this one, _The IDIC Epidemic_ , and _Killing Time_ ,” Julian said, not looking up from his book.

Miles frowned slightly. “Isn’t that the guy that’s married to Commissioner Kirk?”

“Yeah. In fact, _Killing Time_ was actually partly about how they got together. They’re a pretty great couple,” Julian said.

Miles was silent for a second. “So when’re you going to tell me about your date? You promised you’d tell me today.”

Julian sighed and closed his book. “I suppose I did.”

“So what happened? Where’d you go?”

“Well, first we went out to a bar. No, we did not get drunk, Miles, we were on a date. We had to leave the bar, though, because some people just don’t have anything better to do than hate people who are different than them.” Julian stashed his book under his chair, fully invested in the conversation now.

“Did they call you a terrorist again?” Miles asked, very concerned. Sometimes people were such awful creatures.

“No, Miles, I was out with a guy! They clearly were thinking about the whole ‘man shouldn’t lie with another man’ thing!” Julian rolled his eyes.

“Well, if you were just out getting drinks, how could they tell? It would have just looked like… wait, hold on, did you two kiss?”

Julian avoided the question. “Anyways, we left that place and saw a movie. I can’t remember which one. It was some romance movie.”

“You did, didn’t you?” Miles asked. “Oh, come on, Julian!”                      

“‘Oh, come on, Julian’ what? It was a date!” Julian exclaimed.

“You’re not supposed to kiss on a first date!” Miles said. “It’s just like… one of those rules.”

“Um, no? I don’t think so,” Julian said. “Anyways, didn’t you and Keiko hook up after your first date?”

“Well…yes…” Miles admitted. “But that’s different! We were set up through a mutual friend. We weren’t complete strangers.”

“If you want to go about it that way, then so were Garak and I. Odo and Garak worked together a few times, and Odo and I work together all the time. And then I went to see Garak in Odo’s place. See? Set up by a mutual party.”

“That’s nowhere near the same thing! And you know it!”

“Do I?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, there’s clearly something deeper than that going on here, because I’ve never known you to get this upset over someone’s dating life before,” Julian said, exasperated.

“No, there isn’t! I’m just worried about my friend, who went on a date with someone he doesn’t know! Someone who could be potentially dangerous!”

“Aha!” Julian said.

“Okay, just admit your love for each other and get on with your lives!” came Kira’s voice from a handheld radio Miles had set on the dashboard.

Julian frowned and picked it up to respond. “Were you listening to that?”

“Yes,” scratched Kira’s voice.

Miles stole the radio from Julian. “For how long?”

This time, Jadzia’s voice crackled through. “Oh, since the very beginning. Miles never turned it off or something; it’s been broadcasting the whole time.”

A loud smack came when Julian slapped the palm of his hand to his forehead.

“Okay, you guys. That’s enough picking on O’Brien and Bashir,” Sisko’s voiced hissed. A sigh came along with it, Miles could only guess it came from Worf, who was with Sisko. “We’ve got work to do.”

Julian glared at Miles. He grabbed his binoculars, ignoring Miles’s own glare.

The warehouse on the corner of 4th and Cutler was a quiet, out of the way place. Perfect for a crime. Miles and Julian could sit in their car and look like two shady people. Or two lovers… well…it didn’t matter what they looked like, because nobody would notice.

Miles didn’t know what he was really doing there. To be quite honest, Miles never really knew what he was doing. Ever. He just kind of did it, somehow. Every time he finished some investigation, he always wondered how he did it. He was pretty sure he’d never coherently completed anything. Things just sort of happened, and he sort of did somethings. God knows what, because Miles sure as hell doesn’t.

He was staring at his coffee, wondering if he should drink it or chuck it. It was probably swill at that point. He was just about to throw it out the window when Julian smacked his arm and frantically waved at him to get his attention.

“COME ON!” Julian shouted in a whisper.

Miles wasn’t sure what was going on, but he followed Julian. And copied almost every move Julian made. It was probably his best bet. Julian pushed his way into the warehouse, Miles close on his tail. As they entered the warehouse, Miles saw an incredible sight.

There were officers surrounding a box truck, guns out and ready. The truck was just sitting there. It had a terrible paintjob, like someone had tried to quickly paint white over some sickly orange color. There were parts where the paint had peeled off or just hadn’t covered the truck. There must have been some lettering under parts, because there were areas that were a darker, redder color.

Miles noticed that there was a kind of quietness in the air. He couldn’t tell if it meant that something was on the cusp of emerging from the silence, or if there was just nothing there.

An officer sidestepped close to the truck door. Without lowering his gun, he opened the door carefully. After a few seconds, he lowered it, and motioned for someone to open the back. The door was hoisted open. There was a sudden shock.

Nothing was in the van.

Now, Miles usually would sit this out and wait for someone else to go check it over, but this time he was too damn curious. He pulled on some latex gloves and went over to the truck. He hoisted himself in the empty cargo box and peered around.

He almost didn’t see it. It was so small and insignificant that it could have been easily looked over. However, when he tilted his head to one side to peer in the corner, he had noticed a tiny flash.

There, in the corner, sat a small, empty vial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few things:  
> 1\. You can pry the Barclay/Ro friendship from my cold, dead hands.  
> 2\. Yes. They have plenty of get-togethers. The Enterprise crew just really loves showing up places together. It happens.  
> 3\. Muahaha look at all these references and easter eggs that will probably never resurface.


	7. Sisko/Tasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next day  
> Tuesday, May 22nd

Captain Benjamin Sisko rubbed his temples. Absolutely nothing was going according to plan. It was foolish of him to expect everything to run smoothly, but there hadn’t been any reason for this operation to blow to bits.

Bashir finally decided to make an appearance in Sisko’s office. He had been asked to come nearly ten minutes ago. “You wanted to see me?”

“You could make an effort to be a bit hastier,” Sisko sighed.

“Sorry, sir,” Bashir said. “I got tangled up with… never mind.”

“Did you talk to your friend Mr. Garak?” Sisko asked.

“Yes,” Bashir said. “I don’t think he knows anything about what happened, sir.”

“You didn’t straight up ask him, did you?” Sisko asked.

“No, sir.”

“Good. It would be inadvisable to tell anything to someone as tied to the case as Mr. Garak is.” Sisko looked at Bashir. “Was there any indication he knew even the smallest bit of information?”

“No. But then again, I can’t really tell. I sort of have to deduce it all.”

Sisko shook his head. “Look, I know it’s your personal life and I can’t force you to do anything, but-”

“-but you want me to meet up with him and see what I can get from him?” Bashir finished for him. “Don’t worry, we already had our second date planned for tonight. I’ll see what else I can pull.”

“Thank you, Bashir,” Sisko sighed as Bashir left.

Sisko put his head back in his hands. There was absolutely nothing good about anything that happened in the past forty eight hours.

He groaned as he tried to recall what exactly had gone wrong. He couldn’t think of anything. He had placed officers everywhere, securely hiding where they couldn’t be found. He had made sure that there were no holes or leaks before he had went out on the bust. Nobody could have gotten any information out, as far as he knew (although Odo had come in earlier to suggest Quark may very well have said the wrong thing to the wrong person for a price). There weren’t any flaws in his plan. And the execution followed the outlines of that plan exactly.

There had been officers strategically placed to watch all sides and entrances to the warehouse on 4th and Cutler, waiting for the shipment of drugs come in. Sisko himself had watched the truck enter the building. All officers had run in, attempting to stop the shipment from reaching the hands of any potential distributer. They had the truck cornered. And yet, there was nobody and nothing to be found.

If Bashir’s Mr. Garak had even been correct, Sisko and his team had just let a truckload of drugs escape. Chances were, at that very second, it was being distributed, and there was a more than likely possibility that some poor, misguided soul was out there, injecting or inhaling the drug into their system.

Sisko thought of Federation’s drug problem. It was just as bad as its gang situation. In fact, since the gangs were the ones doling the drugs out, it was almost considered a part of the gang problem. It couldn’t be, though, due to the fact that all the drug abusers weren’t gang members themselves. And often times, those abusers would go off and make trouble of their own.

There was a knock on the door, pulling Sisko from his trance.

“Come in.”

Miles O’Brien awkwardly entered his office. The door shut loudly behind him, making him jump slightly. Sisko sighed for the umpteenth time that morning.

“Yes?”

“I’ve just received the vial back from forensics,” O’Brien said. “You said you wanted to see it as soon as possible.”

“Ah, right,” Sisko took the small, plastic bag O’Brien handed him. “What was in it?”

“That’s one of the two curious things, sir. There wasn’t.”

Sisko looked at him in disbelief. “Nothing?”

“Nope,” said O’Brien. “They didn’t know what to make of it in the lab.”

“Nothing?” Sisko repeated. “Nothing at all? No drugs? No chemicals? No DNA traces?”

“None of it.” O’Brien shrugged.

“How is that even possible?” Sisko asked.

“I haven’t the foggiest. Sir.”

“Then what the hell were we doing? What the hell were the Cardassians doing? Was this all a ruse? Some hoax to divert our attention?”

“No, they think there was something held in the container at one point.” Miles shrugged.

“And how can they possibly know that?”

“Because there was some sort of residue inside the tube. It just didn’t register as anything,” Miles explained.

Sisko stared at him, agog.

“Don’t ask me, sir. I couldn’t tell you.”

Sisko inhaled deeply and held the breath in for a few seconds. He let it out in a large sigh. “Okay. Then tell me the second curious thing.”

“The marking on the vial, sir. Nobody has ever seen that before.”

Sisko looked down at the small tube in the plastic bag. There was a small mark on it that Sisko hadn’t noticed previously. He held it to the light to examine it.

On the side of the glass vial was square, tilted on its side. The square was black, and the edges were green. Inside the square was a green, almost blockish “J”, with a small, purple plus shape on the tip of the letter. A green dash was located immediately to the left plus shape.

“Nobody knows what this means?” Sisko asked.

Miles shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Any speculations?”

“Me, sir?” Miles sounded almost surprised.

“Yes, you. You were the one to find this thing, after all,” Sisko said.

“Well, I guess it could be another gang,” Miles suggested.

“A new gang.” Sisko felt his heart sink. Federation couldn’t handle another gang. “No offense, O’Brien, but I sure hope you’re wrong.”

“I do too, sir,” Miles said, and he left the office.

Sisko looked down at the bag that Miles had forgotten to take with him. He sighed and set it on his desk. He stroked his beard thoughtfully for a second. He felt like an old professor, so he stopped almost immediately.

He looked over at the black office phone on his desk. He reached for the phone and dialed a number.

“What’s up, baby?” Kasidy’s voice came through the phone.

“Just wanted to check to see if you’re okay,” Sisko said.

“I’m fine now,” Kasidy said. “Just tired.”

“You sure?” Sisko asked. She had been sick all morning.

“Yeah. I’m at work, so I’ll have to talk later, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, baby,” she said.

“Love you, too,” Sisko said before he hung up. His wife, Kasidy Yates-Sisko was one of the best people he had ever had the fortune of meeting. He loved her to pieces, and he was lucky enough to say she felt the same about him. Jake thought she was the best, too. It was Jake who set them up, after all.

It had been about five years since the death of Jake’s mom and Sisko’s first wife, Jennifer. Jake had started to feel that Sisko was lonely, so he set him up on a blind date with Kasidy (he had met her at work sometime before). Sisko had planned for it to go terribly, but lo and behold, three years later they were married. They were coming up on their two year anniversary soon, and Sisko had never been happier.

It’s just that he was constantly worried. Not because of her, but for her. Jennifer was killed due to his job, and he was so scared that Kasidy could end up the same way. Sisko was afraid everyone would.

He shook the thoughts from his head. There was only one way to make sure nobody ended up dead. He just had to do his job.

* * *

 

Tasha ran a hand through her hair. She couldn’t even begin to express how little she wanted to write the report in front of her. It felt like a giant weight. She wished it would just write itself, so she could go on with her life. Paperwork always bummed her out.

She tipped her head onto her hand and doodled on a sticky note with her pen. Procrastination was Tasha’s finest skill. She could waste days away like nobody’s business. She once completely stopped going to a library because she owed one cent for an overdue book.

She had doodled across three and a half notes before she pulled herself out of her pity party. She sighed loudly and put her pen to the paper. There was no turning back now, she refused to let herself think about anything other than the report until it was finished. It took nearly an hour to drag herself through it. It was a slow process that made her head ache and her body restless. Her fingers drummed on the desk the entire time. By the end, she had realized she had thrown Barclay into a funk. He was staring at her fingers, eyes wild. When she stopped, he stared at her fingers for a few seconds more, before shaking his head and continuing on with whatever he was doing as if nothing had happened.

She stacked the papers and shoved them to the end of her desk so she could get on with her life without ever needing to think about them again. Of course, it was more than likely she’d have to go through them again at some point, but she could always hope.

There was very few people still in their desks. Will, Guinan, Data, and Ro had all gone out for their own reasons. Will was investigating something, Guinan had gone to speak with someone a few floors down, and both Data and Ro were visiting Geordi during their lunch break.

Barclay and Deanna were the only ones left. Both were working hard, or were at least pretending to. Tasha envied how diligently they could work. She lacked the patience to do any paperwork the way those two could.

She studied the two carefully. Barclay was nothing to look at, in Tasha’s opinion. He bored her. Deanna, on the other hand…

Deanna was the focus of Tasha’s dreams. She was gorgeous and elegant in a way Tasha could never be. She wore her femininity on her sleeve like a badge, and she presented herself like a goddess. Especially today.

Deanna’s hair was up in her usual style. It was curly and it always made Tasha want to run her fingers through it and smell it. Her clothes were stunning as always, and Tasha wondered if she could ever pull off cute boots and a pencil skirt the way Deanna could. Red lips, white blouse, sparkly earrings. Complimented by her gorgeous dark eyes that always made Tasha feel melty inside.

Tasha groaned inwardly. There was absolutely nothing that could tear her mind away from Deanna. She was about ninety percent sure she was in love with Deanna, but she refused to acknowledge. There was no real chance between the two of them. Deanna probably thought of her as a really close friend or something.

Her pocket buzzed and pulled Tasha away from her fantasy of swooping Deanna up onto a white horse and riding off into the sunset. It was a text from Will. She wanted to chuck the phone and go back to her daydream, but no luck. It had been viciously pulled from her and there was no way to get back to the bliss that it had bestowed upon her.

“Damn,” Tasha sighed under her breath.

Will’s text said _“18 th street, next to the coffee shop. I’ll owe you another one.”_

Knowing how well Will repays debts, Tasha knew she had to go. Maybe she could get another full week of free pizzas again. The last time it happened, Deanna and Tasha gorged themselves happily Monday through Friday. She hoped to repeat the experience. If she really tried, she could probably get Deanna to stay over. It was most likely that nothing would happen, but it’d still be nice to have Deanna sleep over.

However, dreaming up a pizza-filled fantasy would have to wait, because Will didn’t text unless it was important. Usually he would prattle on and on over the phone instead. Sometimes Tasha wanted to smack Will.

Tasha took one last look at Deanna. She was now staring at a stack of papers, absentmindedly knotting and unknotting one of her curls. Tasha shook her head slightly, pushing away thoughts about romantic sunsets and candlelight dinners. She had time to daydream later, now she just had to go help a clueless fool out.

She jiggled her keys in her hand all the way to her car. It was a teeny yellow thing, and Tasha had a love-hate relationship with it. It got her where she needed without fuss, but it always seemed to have a sort of sass. If Tasha wanted to turn up the heat? The car had to be warm to turn the knob in the first place. If she wanted to play her music? It would work, but she couldn’t skip a song. Tasha anthropomorphized the car into the snarkiest thing she’d ever met.

The car started and hot air blasted Tasha’s face. It was going to take a few minutes for it to cool down, so Tasha opened her window so she didn’t sweat to death. A warm wind blew as Tasha drove down the road. Eventually, the stench of the city made her roll up the window and deal with the hot air still blowing from the vents.

Traffic was faster than it usually was midday Tuesday. Not that Tuesday traffic was ever particularly bad, it just wasn’t good. Traffic was never good in Federation. In fact, there wasn’t much that was actually good in Federation, in Tasha’s opinion.

Years ago, Tasha had come from a particularly bad town to Federation in hopes of making a better life for herself. She was fifteen and had run away from home and entered into a system for ‘lost girls’. She used money stolen from her parents to last her until the end of high school, barely surviving the three years. She immediately entered a technical school with a full ride scholarship. For two years after graduating the tech school, she went from job to job, only making enough to keep an awful, rundown apartment, and often couldn’t afford basic necessities. She eventually got fed up with her life and entered a police academy.

Now, Tasha has a nice apartment and can afford to put food on the table. It still didn’t make her feel any better about anything, but she didn’t sleep on a couch anymore either, so that was something.

Arriving five minutes sooner than she had planned, she found Will standing in an alley. She noted the way he was standing. Will always found the strangest way to pose. At that moment, he had his foot propped up on an old crate that came up to his hips. Tasha shook her head. Will was something else.

“Find anything, Will?” Tasha called to him.

Will whipped around and shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun. “Tasha!”

“What’s up?” she asked, approaching him. “What’d you call me down here for?”

“Klingons.” Will pointed down the alleyway. Sure enough, there were the clear signs of a Klingon scuffle. “Looks like a hurried acceptance ritual.”

The Klingons were a gang filled with rituals, traditions, and codes. While the other gangs did what they did for who knows what, the Klingons were filled with angry people who wanted to use corrupt morals to satiate their inner need to destroy everything. They claimed it was their ‘human right’ to express primal urges. They often said that since they, unlike other gangs, had codes of conduct, they should be left alone. It was an insane plea to maintain their killing rituals and such things. Tasha thought that made them worse than the rest, because at least the others had a true motive- gaining profit and status. Klingons just did what they did because they wanted to and because it improved their ‘honor.’

“What makes you say that?” Tasha asked.

“Come here,” Will said, beckoning for her to follow him deeper into the alley. He pointed to multiple puddles of blood. “These are the markings they use when they accept new members. It looks like there’s about five or six, depending on if that big one is just a lot of blood or if it’s two together. Now, they’re not as clean as they usually are. Generally they’re in precise patterns, but these are sloppy. Either they were in a hurry or they just recruited careless people.”

“Both of which are unusual,” Tasha remarked, crouching next to the closest pool of blood.

“Right. Somethings going down with the Klingons, is my guess,” Will said.

“Didn’t Ro and Barclay nab one last week?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s going on with them?” Tasha wondered. “It’s not like Klingons to act like this. They’re not a jumpy, hurried bunch.”

“I have no clue, Tash,” Will said.

“How’d you even find this?” she asked, standing up.

“Oh, some girl came up to me and said she saw a bunch of bloody teenagers running away from a coffee shop.” Will shrugged.

“Oh my god! Is she okay?” she asked.

“I suppose. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Tasha stared at him. “Will! She saw a group of bloody people running around! She’s probably traumatized!”

“Uhhh…” Will looked blankly at her.

“Jesus Christ, Will!” Tasha exclaimed. “Pretend to be human once and awhile, please!”

“Sorry,” he said.

“Don’t say sorry to me! I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” she said.

He scratched his beard. “Well, I don’t know how to find her again, so you’re the next best thing.”

Tasha pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled loudly. “Whatever, Will. We should probably call more people down here. Speaking of which, why am I down here?”

“I didn’t know who was all busy, so, you know…”

“You’re not serious,” she said in disbelief. “Will, I shouldn’t be down here. You should either be out looking for these guys or getting someone down here to take a look at this, not just playing show-and-tell.”

“I got you down here to find them!” Will said. “I’m not good with kids. If they’re running around with the Klingons now, you’re probably the best one to talk to them.”

“I don’t even know where they are!”

“Well, neither do I!”

“I’m not just picking up your new case because you don’t know how to deal with kids,” she said.

“Like I said in the text, I’d owe you,” Will pleaded.

“I don’t think you know how this works,” Tasha sighed. “Go talk to Picard. Actually, call someone down here to check this out. Someone who knows what they’re doing, unlike you.”

Will held his hands up. “Why do you think I called you?”

Tasha shook her head. “This is just going in circles. I’m going back. You call someone. Got it? Bye.”

She turned and walked away, not even bothering to pay attention to Will anymore. This was a waste of her time. She got back into her car and drove off.

The traffic had picked up slightly. It was lunchtime, and it would seem no one was content with what they had brought to work to eat. Personally, Tasha was excited to get back and eat her sandwich she had made last night. Now that she actually had money to make real food with, she did so as much as possible. The bacon in that sandwich was good quality, and she was eager to see how it turned out.

She patched her phone in through her car’s Bluetooth and tried to call Deanna. She groaned and cursed out her car after three unsuccessful attempts. Maybe it was time to stop buying so much food and save up for a better car.

Holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear, she tried to call Deanna again. That time the call actually went through, but Deanna’s voicemail answered. Apparently Deanna had silenced her phone.

Tasha sighed and dumped the phone on the passenger seat. “Damn.”

She ran a hand through her hair, glaring out into the daylight. She ruffled her hair a bit, imagining that it would look quite handsome, and fantasizing that upon her return, Deanna would swoon into her arms. She laughed to herself.

She had only gotten about ten minutes out before she got incredibly bored in the car. Tasha’s attention span was limited. She started a game with herself- how many windows could she count on each building before traffic started moving again. Mostly she stayed in the lower numbers, but she got to twenty five once. Twelve, thirteen, five, ten, seven…

Wait. Tasha leaned forward and stared up at the next building she was about to count. Six- no, seven figures were running along the top of it. Tasha frowned.

There were a lot of parkour enthusiasts in Federation. Too many superhero movies were and too many tall buildings did that to people. They all thought they could be the next vigilante, apparently forgetting the difference between reality and fiction.

Tasha frowned and watched the seven jump to the next building. They didn’t look too good at it, they seemed to hesitate. And then Tasha remembered.

The Klingon initiation ritual had new members do daring feats of bravery. It often entailed things like parkour, intense wrestling matches, knife fights, and on ‘special’ occasions, daytime robbery. This was all to prove that, even though they had drained a substantial amount of blood from themselves not to long before, they could be tough and brave warriors.

Remembering that Will had said there was five or six blood pools, Tasha suspected that these could be the new converts. She switched lanes quickly, earning a well-deserved honk from a few cars. She planned on following the bunch.

Tasha gasped as she recalled something about the Klingon acceptance rituals. She picked up her phone and dialed Will as quickly as she could.

“What?” Will did not sound happy. She supposed he wasn’t pleased that she just left him there.

“You remember what happens at the end of the ritual?” she asked.

There was a silence. “Ah, shit.”

“I found them, and I’m going to follow them. I’ll turn on my location, just follow my phone, okay?”

“Be careful, Tash,” Will warned. “If they’re really going to murder someone, I’d rather it not be you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be alright.” She hung up the phone and turned on the location on her phone. “Alright, you bastards. Let’s stop you before you hurt someone.”

Attempting to keep an eye on the road and on the seven Klingons, she slowly followed them. Once or twice she thought she had lost them. At one point, she thought one had fallen, but no such luck. It looked like it was the one leading them, so it was double the letdown.

Tasha admonished herself for such a thought. All life was important, even a Klingons. That’s why it was imperative that she stopped the initiates from taking someone else’s life and condemning themselves to a life in the gang. 

Following the group was tedious and not very easy. Eventually, she had to park her car and follow on foot. After that, it all went downhill.

Fifteen minutes into the chase, Will caught up with Tasha. She had all but lost them, but Will had spotted them trying to find her. They had to run to catch up. The Klingon group did not want to come down from the buildings, it seemed.

“How long do they do this for?” Tasha asked breathlessly.

“No clue. I’ve never followed any of them before.” Will squinted up ahead at the group. “I’ve never followed any one doing parkour before.”

“Neither have I, and I never will again.” Tasha leaned against a building for a second. “This is absolutely ridiculous.”

“We can’t give up, someone’s life is on the line.”

She moaned. “Or maybe not. They’ve been so sloppy that they might just skip it altogether.”

Will shook his head. “I don’t think we can take that risk.”

“No, I guess not.” Tasha pushed herself off the wall and followed him again.

Eventually, Tasha and Will had followed the Klingons away from the big buildings and were then among smaller apartment complexes. And two minutes later, they lost the group completely.

“What do you suppose we do now?” Tasha looked at Will.

He pulled a face. “I don’t know, do you?”

“No clue.”

“Shit.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do we try to find them again?”

“Yeah. Try knocking door to door, see if they live there,” Tasha scoffed.

“Not funny,” he said. “Someone could die.”

“Or maybe not. They’re acting really strange, Will. Sloppy initiation, recruiting subpar members,” she said. “Somethings going down in Klingon land, man.”

“And you think that’ll stop them from murdering someone?”

“I don’t know. But I also don’t know where they are, so I can’t really do anything about it, can I?”

“Are there any bases we know of nearby?” he asked.

“Not sure.” She pulled out her phone. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Then we’ll have to assume that there’s a base here we don’t yet know about, or this is the place that they’re going to murder someone.”

“Well, we can’t do anything about that now.” Tasha folded her arms.

“Oh, yes we can,” Will chuckled.

“What are we gonna do? There’s no way to find them!” Tasha said.

“You just said it yourself, we can go door to door.”

“You’re not serious!”

As it turns out, Will was very serious. Tasha spent five hours going knocking on doors and questioning many different people.

One old lady in particular offered her coffee seven times and had her tiny white dog growl at her until Tasha accepted. The coffee was bitter and Tasha sat through twenty minutes of a one sided conversation about the lady’s dead husband. It was equal parts depressing and annoying.

When she had finally escaped the old lady’s clutches and her still-growling dog, Will was standing outside, clearly unimpressed.

“Literally not my fault,” Tasha said. “Her dog was about two seconds from ripping my leg off.”

“What?”

Tasha nodded to the apartment. “The old lady who lives there has this ugly little dog that spent the whole time snarling at me. I couldn’t leave or she’d send the dog after me.”

“Couldn’t you tell her it was a life or death situation?” Will asked.

She shrugged. “I did. Didn’t help me one bit.”

“Hm. Well, doesn’t matter now,” he sighed. “We’ve passed the five hour margin. If they were going to do it, it would have happened by now.”

“Does that mean we can done?” Tasha pleaded. “I’m so sick of repeating myself. ‘No, they’re not three year olds.’ ‘Yes, they’re dangerous.’ ‘No, you cannot take the law into your own hands.’ ‘No, that’s not my job.’”

“Just try to be less relatable,” he suggested. “Nobody asked me any questions even remotely like those.”

“Will. I was in no way relatable. When have I ever been?” she asked.

“Good point.”

“Can we go now? I didn’t get to eat my lunch. I’m hungry and cranky now,” she said. “Don’t make me miss dinner, too.”

“Fine.” Will pulled out his phone. “I’m calling a cab. I’m not walking back to your car. Or my car.”

“Ah, shit,” she said. “What do you wanna bet I have a ticket?”

“Ooh, right.” He made a face. “Sorry.”

“It’s definitely not the worst thing that’s happened today,” she said listlessly.

It was a bit before the cab came, and the driver informed them that traffic picked up a lot. Tasha hadn’t expected anything else, but Will groaned.

“Oh, shut up. You’re the one that made us stay this long,” she complained.

“It was important, Tash!” he exclaimed.

“Baseball?” The driver called from the front. “Did your husband make you stay to watch the game?”

Tasha bit her lip to hold in a laugh. Her eyes watered slightly as she saw Will’s bewildered expression, but she held it all in.

“Ah,” she said “Sir, this isn’t my husband.”

“Oooh,” the driver sang. “Lover, then?”

Will’s face was beet red, and Tasha snorted. She tried to keep the rest in, but was very close to failing.

“We’re not romantically or sexually involved,” she explained. Will put a hand over his mouth to hide a cheesy grin. “We’re just coworkers.”

“Sure, if you say so.” The driver shot them an all-knowing look through the rearview mirror.

A giggle escaped Will’s lips, and Tasha hit him.

“I promise you, sir. We are no way involved with each other.”

“Uh huh. Right.”

Tasha put her face in her hands, exasperated. If this guy was convinced she was straight, how the hell would she get Deanna to know how into her she was?

Sometimes Tasha was really done with her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pain in my ass. I didn't even bother to edit, sorry.  
> They don't know what they're doing because I don't either. This was honestly a filler chapter. I promise, it'll get better.


	8. Quark/Riker/Deanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks later  
> Wednesday, June 6th

“That’s twelve,” Quark informed Jadzia.

Jadzia looked up from her fort made of popsicle sticks. “What?”

“You’re on layer twelve.”

Jadzia frowned and counted the layers of sticks. “Two, four, six, eight, ten… yeah, you’re right.”

Kira, who had her head on her desk, sighed. “It’s so early, I can’t even think straight.”

Quark saw Jadzia’s eyebrows flicker up, but she said nothing.

“I mean, what even is this anyway?” Kira continued. “Is this punishment?”

“Yes!” came Sisko’s booming voice.

Kira lifted her head. “Aw, crap. How long have you been here?”

“Oh, long enough,” Sisko said. Quark tried to roll his chair back to his desk without being noticed. “Quark, I see what you’re doing. You’d better be going to do work.”

“I am!” Quark said quickly. Jadzia shot him a glare.

“You all do too much chatting. Sergeant Worf here has brought it to my attention that he thinks you all are lazy and can’t do anything to save your lives. So prove him wrong.” Sisko gave Sergeant Worf a meaningful look. “We know what we can do here at Deep Space Nine. Show him what he’s not seeing.”

Quark watched Kira relax deep into her chair. She had been sitting rigid, clearly worried that Sisko was actually pissed at them.

That’s why Quark respected Sisko. He could put up with everyone’s bullshit and not raise a finger unless they had done something truly wrong. He knew that they were a rowdy bunch, but he also understood that they were good workers and could get stuff done despite being scatterbrained half the time.

Sergeant Worf looked like he wanted to throw something. Quark suspected that he was not used to being called out like that. It was something he’d have to get used to. Everyone got called out all the time at the 9th precinct.

Quark looked outside. It was just after sunrise. He didn’t even want to know what time it was. Coming in to work that early was a tragedy, even if it was to make uptight Sergeant Worf eat his words.

He spent half an hour telling a woman that her cat was most certainly _not_ murdered by her neighbor. She wouldn’t listen. She kept arguing that the cat was clearly poisoned, and her neighbor should be brought to justice. Quark just kept repeating that the cat had died of an infection, which the veterinarians had clearly told her about the last time the cat had gotten a checkup. Eventually, she had to be almost dragged away from him after she tried to maul his face with her heavily manicured fingernails.

An hour and two cups of coffee later, Quark was just about ready to punch someone. He rested his chin on his hand and stared at the few drops of coffee still in his mug. It was the kind of day where he was going to need at least two more cups to keep him alive.

He sighed and looked at Odo, who was deeply invested in a conversation with an IT worker. Odo was furiously gesturing at his computer, and the IT guy appeared to be close to tears. It was a very intense moment. Quark chuckled to himself and got up to stretch his legs and get more coffee.

It was a well-hidden office secret that the best coffee was made by the dispatchers. The only people that knew about it were Quark, Jadzia, Julian, and the dispatchers themselves. None of them knew why their coffee was better, it just _was_.

Quark had consumed enough of the swill Kira had the audacity to call coffee, and needed the real deal if he was going to make it through the rest of the day.

He ducked out of the detective’s room and waited patiently by the elevator. He quickly got fed up with patience and pressed the ‘down’ button repetitively. Eventually it dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal Sisko attempting to hide a mug.

“Not you, too,” Quark groaned.

“Dax told me,” Sisko admitted sheepishly.

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone else,” Quark said. “If too many people know, then nobody will ever get a crack at the good stuff.”

“Don’t worry,” Sisko said. “I don’t intend on letting the cat out of the bag. I need this coffee more than I need sleep; letting people know about it only means less for me.”

Sisko walked back to his office, still trying to hide his coffee. Quark shook his head and stepped into the elevator. He pressed the star for the main floor, and the doors shut.

As soon as Quark reached the glorious coffee pot, all of his troubles dissipated. He felt his worries slip away as he poured coffee into his cup. He sighed and took a sip. Still hot. Wonderful.

Quark took his steaming mug to the lobby to enjoy. He stood next to the windows and peered out. Bajor was just opening up, and there was a small trickle of people entering. That shop was getting to popular for Quark’s taste. He heard that there was another being built on the other side of the city.

He was so entranced with the store that he had to shake himself. He took a big drink of his coffee and smiled.

Out the window he could see his nephew and Jake laughing. He watched the two talk, Jake making outrageous hand gestures and Nog doubling over, clearly not done laughing. After a bit, the two settled down. Jake kissed Nog. Jake had to bend over quite a bit, and Nog was on his tiptoes, but they made it work. The two let go, and Nog walked out of Quark’s view.

He reentered it as he walked into the building, and smiled at his uncle. Quark winked at the boy. Nog waved and kept walking. Quark looked at his watch. Nog was twenty minutes early to his shift. He knew how much Nog wanted to impress, so he chuckled and shook his head.

“That’ll soon fade,” he remarked to himself, and turned back to the window.

Jake was still standing outside. He was looking at his phone, no doubt texting someone. He was very enraptured. Suddenly his head snapped up, and he quickly slipped his phone in his pocket and held his hands up slightly. Quark leaned forward to see what happened.

Two boys (or young men, Quark couldn’t tell) were walking across the street towards Jake. Quark saw that the shorter, blond one was yelling something, and the tall, lanky brunette beside him was laughing menacingly. He couldn’t see Jake’s expression because he had turned his back to Quark so he could face the boys.

They kept getting closer, and Jake took a step back. The blond was still yelling, sneering up at Jake’s face. The taller one leaned in close to Jake and spat at him. Jake reached his hand up to his face to wipe it away immediately, and that was when the tall brunette kicked a leg out from under Jake, sending the boy down to his knees. Jake barely had time to stop himself from falling all the way down before the tall boy grabbed hold of him and him still for the burly blond kid, who raised his fist to strike him.  

Quark swore loudly and scrambled for a place to set his coffee mug down. After a second, he just decided to drop it. Spilled coffee and a broken mug were nothing on Jake’s safety. He sprinted to the doors and shoved out them outside.

“HEY!” Quark shouted and charged at the boys.

The tall brunette stopped laughing and let go of Jake, and the blond stopped a punch midway. There wasn’t even a beat before the two took off like rockets. Quark ran after for a few steps, but they had cleared the block quickly, and he knew there was no hope of catching them.

Quark rushed to Jake. He kneeled beside the boy, and assessed the damage. He couldn’t tell how bad it was, but it certainly wasn’t pretty. There was blood coming from Jake’s nose, some dripping down to the pavement.

“Are you okay enough to walk?” Quark asked.

Jake nodded slightly. “I think so.”

“I’m going to take you inside, okay?” Quark pulled him up to his feet carefully, letting Jake lean on him somewhat.

“Please don’t tell my dad. Or Nog,” Jake pleaded.

Quark looked at him. “Jake, you’re pretty banged up, I don’t think-”

Jake pulled on Quark’s sleeve, stopping him. “No, I’m not worrying them.”

He held up his hands. “Alright, alright. Just let me help you clean up.”

When Jake shot him a skeptical look, he went on. “There’s a bathroom on the bottom floor that no one goes to, we’ll go there. Happy?”

Jake was silent for a second, but then let Quark lead him on. “Fine.”

It only took a minute to get Jake to the bathroom, but Quark had to kind of sneak him through the precinct so as to not raise suspicion. It was quite some doing, as Jake was by far the taller man and there were quite a few people on the way to the elevators. Luckily, nobody seemed to really notice. They were all too involved in their own issues to care.

In the small, one-stall bathroom, Quark helped Jake sit down on the floor. “See? Out of the way. Nobody will know.”

“Yeah, why’s that?” Jake asked as he pressed to his nose a paper towel that had Quark offered him.

Quark shrugged. “Bah, I dunno. Some old rumor about a man dying in here. Nobody likes a spot where someone died. Afraid of ghosts.”

Jake stared at him, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Dead serious.”

“Haha, funny,” Jake said, rolling his eyes.

“I know, I’m hilarious.” Quark dabbed a damp towel to a cut on Jake’s lip. “Hold still, now.”

The younger man did as he was told, still holding the paper towel to his nose. Quark leaned in close to Jake’s face to check his pupils. They were the same size, and neither looked abnormally large.

“Okay, bear with me, I’m going to ask a few questions.”

“Mmm.”

Quark smiled in an attempt to lighten the situation. “Great. I think I’ve established no memory loss, but humor me here- can you tell me your name and what happened?”

“I’m Jake Sisko. I was just beat up outside the place where both my dad and fiancé work.”

“No slurred speech, obviously. Can you watch my fingers?” Quark held up two fingers and moved them around, and Jake followed them with his eyes.

“Perfect. Do you feel nauseous?” Quark asked, leaning back in to look for any large bumps on Jake’s head.

“No,” Jake said.

Quark pulled back, satisfied that there were no lumps on Jake’s head. “Dizzy? Drowsy?”

“Not really.”

“Do you have a headache? Are you seeing stars? Ringing in your ears?”

“Nope, nope, and nope,” Jake said patiently.

“Alright, I think we’ve ruled out concussion.” Quark said cheerfully.

“That’s good,” Jake said.

“So,” Quark started delicately. “What ah… what happened out there?”

Jake began to shake his head, but desisted when Quark began fussing like a mother hen. “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t know those two boys?” Quark asked.

“Nope,” Jake said.

“Ah.”

“You know, I never know which one it is. Is it cause I’m black or is it cause I’m gay?”

Quark bit his lower lip, unsure how he was supposed to reply.

Jake saw his face and sighed. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, no.” Quark took a small breath in. “I don’t know anything about your problems, but I do know about mine.”

“Yours?” Jake raised his undamaged eyebrow. The other wasn’t in the best of shape. It looked like it would soon form a small bruise.

“Yeah, mine,” Quark said, peering at the eyebrow. “I don’t have ice for this, so I can’t stop the bruising.”

“That’s okay,” Jake said. “I’ll just tell Nog I ran into a door.”

“Why don’t you just tell him what happened?” Quark asked.

“I don’t want to worry him,” Jake said.

“You already used that one. Tell me the truth.”

“Look, I don’t want him to get upset and go out searching for those people. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it’s probably not going to be the last. I can’t have him out looking for vengeance day and night. Same goes for my dad. So don’t you dare tell them.”

Quark crossed his heart. “I swear I won’t say a word.”

Jake eyed him carefully, but accepted another wet paper towel for his nose. He’d stopped the bleeding and was trying to wipe the remaining blood away. “What did you mean about your problems?”

“C’mon kid, you seriously think I didn’t get flack when I was your age? Hell, I got it all of the time.” Quark sat back, letting Jake finish cleaning himself up.

“How come?”

“‘How come?’ Jake, not only was I gay as the fourth of July, I was as flamboyant as a peacock. You should have seen my favorite shirt. There wasn’t a day back then when my brother and I weren’t shoved around. Now, I don’t think any of those bullies were stupid enough to do it in front of a police station…”

“Yeah, that wasn’t the smartest choice.” Jake breathed a small laugh.

The two of them sat in silence for a short while. Jake finished mopping up his face and threw his bloody paper towels away.

“I think I’m going to go now,” Jake said. “Thanks for everything.”

Quark winked. “Anything for my future nephew-in-law.”

Jake made his way to the door, but paused before leaving. “I really mean it. Thank you.”

And he frowned, as if he had something more to say, before shaking his head and ducking out the door.

Quark picked up the few remaining paper towels and threw them in the trash. He washed his hands, scrubbing them thoroughly. He hoped he had done enough for Jake. With luck, the cuts and bruises would heal quickly and there would be no lasting repercussions. He decided he’d call in a day or two just to make sure Jake really didn’t have any head injuries. Quark didn’t feel entirely sure just yet.

He looked up at the mirror behind the sink. He stared at his face and realized how tired he was. There were so many things wrong in the world, and he felt so small and unable to truly help. Something in him hardened, and he knew what he needed to do next.

Quark tore out of that bathroom and up the stairs with such gusto that he was winded by the time he reached the correct floor. He caught his breath quickly before entering the detective’s room.

“Odo,” he called. “I need to talk to you.”

Odo, who had been looking over a document with Sergeant Worf, looked up with a frown. “Can it wait?”

“It’s waited long enough,” Quark said, shaking his head.

Sighing, Odo made his apologies to Sergeant Worf and shot Quark a glare. Quark waited for Odo finish before leading him up to the roof. There were very few places in the precinct to hold a private conversation, and Quark felt he had quite enough of the “haunted” bathroom downstairs for one day.

It was starting to warm up outside, and Quark found himself immediately closing his eyes and taking it all in as soon as he stepped out onto the roof. He walked to the edge and peered down at Bajor. It seemed to still be humming with people.

“What is it you wanted?” Odo’s irritated voice caused him to turn back to face the glowering man.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Quark asked. “Because if it isn’t at this point, you’re not the detective we all believe you to be.”

“This is the second time you’ve done this on the roof. And I’m still not in the mood for games, Quark. Just tell me what you want so I can get back to work.” Odo folded his arms tightly.

“Odo, one’d think that you, of all people, would be able to figure out something this simple,” Quark said. “But you haven’t, and now I’m tired of waiting for you to work it out on your own. Tell me how you feel about me.”

“How I feel about you?” Odo scoffed. “Hmm, let me see. A few select words come to mind: disgusted, annoyed, peeved. How about this? I just plain don’t like you.”

“Really?” It was more of a challenging statement than a question, because Quark was getting pretty cross.

Odo threw him a bewildered look. “What do you mean? Of course, really!”

 “What I mean is that I don’t think you actually do. I think there’s a completely different feeling you have for me, whether you admit it to yourself or not.”

“And what feeling would that be?” Odo asked.

“Well, I’m hoping it’s something of a romantic nature,” Quark said.

“You’re _WHAT_?” Odo cried.

“You heard me right,” Quark said coolly.

“You think I _like_ you? What kind of insanity has your unhinged, irrational-”

“Let’s put it this way, Odo.” Quark narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I know that look when people deny things to themselves. I know that look you give me. It isn’t hatred. It isn’t disgust. It’s something I’ve never seen on you.”

“Yes, a new level of loathing!”

“No.” Quark, for once in his life, was stern. “That’s not it. Somewhere deep down inside you, you know I’m right. You feel something for me that you’ve never felt for anyone. And I can’t tell if you’re refusing to admit it because it’s me you’ve fallen for or if it’s because you’ve never come to terms with who you are.”

Quark watched Odo’s expressions go through many transformations in a split second. In the end, a hostile look remained.

“Don’t say anything, Odo,” Quark warned. “Whatever it is, you’ll regret it.”

“Oh?” The hostility reached to Odo’s voice.

“Don’t think for a second that because you’re mad at me, your insecurities are valid. Get over yourself. Because some day you’re going to realize what you want from me, and I won’t be here for it.”

“You’re assuming quite a bit, Quark,” Odo said unkindly. “This violates so many-”

“Odo, please. Tell me one thing. Are you straight?”

Odo froze, quite obviously taken aback. “… what does that have to do with anything?”

“Aha! See! You’re not!”

“I never said I wasn’t! You didn’t give me a chance to finish!” Odo protested.

“Name one girl you like,” Quark challenged.

Odo blanched. “Uh…Detective Kira.”

“Uh huh. Now, why haven’t you asked her out?” Quark asked.

“Well, she’s obviously involved with someone, don’t you remember meeting Antos Bareil a month ago?”

Quark raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I do. I also remember how he kissed his boyfriend, Edon Shakaar just outside the precinct after. You and Kira are both fighting this together, and let me tell you, you’re losing. So just one last time, say it right to my face. Tell me how you feel about me.”

Odo gaped at Quark, but didn’t say anything.

Quark rolled his eyes. “Right. I’m going to go. You can stay up here and figure this all out. Don’t take too long, because as I said, I’m not going to be here forever.”

* * *

 

“And you’re sure about this?” Will asked. “There really is something going down in the gangs?”

Picard shrugged. “It would be the most likely scenario. I suppose if you truly wanted to know, you could go back in and ask.”

Will rubbed his beard. He didn’t really want to go back in the room with that Klingon. The stench alone was bad enough, not to mention the Klingon’s temper.

“If only Worf was still here. He could get things from Klingons that nobody else could dream of,” Will sighed.

“Unfortunately, he’s not. We’ll just have to make do with our own keen intellect, won’t we?” Picard remarked. “In all seriousness, I’d like you to go back in there and question him again.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Will gave a playful salute.

 “Where did Deanna say she found him again?”

Will frowned. “Near one of the old Cardassian bases, I think. She said it looked like there had been a big scuffle. Everything else is beyond me, you’d have to ask her.”

Picard gave a curt nod. “Right. Carry on.”

Will shook his head slightly as he opened the door and stepped into the filthy air.

* * *

 

Deanna shook her hair out of the ponytail. “It has been such a long day.”

“No kidding,” Tasha said, keeping her eyes on the road. “I’m going to drink my heart out.”

“Are you sure you want to go out for drinks?” Deanna asked skeptically.

“After the day I’ve had? Yeah,” Tasha said. “I had to talk to four men who spent most of the time telling me how I could be doing my job better.”

“Ouch,” Deanna said. “Yeah, I can see how you’d want a drink. But I warn you, I have no intention of spending my Saturday with a hangover.”

“Shhh,” Tasha hissed. “Don’t ruin the drinking before it’s even begun.”

Deanna rolled her eyes. “Alright, it’s your funeral.”

“Yours, too,” Tasha said, giving Deanna a sidelong glance. “If we go down, then we go down together?”

Deanna just shook her head. “If we’re both ‘down’, then who is driving us back?”

“Oh, I’m just driving home. There’s a good bar a few blocks away.”

“You’re going to make me get drunk and then ride in a taxi by myself home?” Deanna asked.

“…okay, so my planning isn’t exceptional,” Tasha confessed, laughing. “I guess I didn’t think about that, sorry. If push comes to shove, we can always have Will come get us. He owes me one.”

Deanna weighed her options. “Deal. But if Will uses it as blackmail, I may murder you.”

Tasha responded by uttering a tiny groan and turning up the radio. Deanna instantly recognized the tune, and did a small dance in her seat to the beat of the music.

Deanna spent most of the ride to Tasha’s apartment nodding to good music. Tasha certainly did know how to pick good songs. Every last one was one hell of a bop.  

The two stopped briefly at the apartment, and Tasha grabbed one or two things. Deanna flopped onto Tasha’s small loveseat and played with her hair. Tasha’s place was always one of her favorites. Her best friend had the loveliest décor, despite Tasha constant complaints about how crappy and sparse her place was.

Tasha came back in a completely new outfit. “Another example of my poor planning skills. I should have asked if you wanted to change into something more comfortable than work clothes.”

“It’s fine,” Deanna said. “Everything I own is comfortable.”

Tasha’s eyes widened. “Everything? Even those heels?”

Deanna looked down at her shoes. “Well, they’re not physically comfortable, but I feel at ease wearing them.”

“I envy how in tune with your body you are,” Tasha said, shaking her head slightly.

Deanna smiled. “We’ll get you there soon. But first-drinks!”

“Now you’re talking.”

The walk there wasn’t as short as Tasha had claimed it to be, but it wasn’t awful. The warm sun was still shining, and it was only just beginning to lower in the sky. The windows of the buildings they passed were blinding, but, Deanna just kept her sights fixed on Tasha and all was well.

After what felt like ages of walking, Tasha veered left and into a bar. Deanna dipped in after her and was pleasantly surprised. Sure, it was rowdy and more like a club than a bar, but it had a great atmosphere. The whole place felt like a happy little bubble.

“This is Ten Forward,” Tasha said loudly. “Guinan recommended it to me a while back. It’s pretty great.”

“Mmm.” Deanna nodded in agreement as she looked around. A rainbow flag draped on the wall made her smile. “Do you come here often?”

“Not nearly enough,” Tasha admitted. “I don’t like drinking alone, and I generally can’t find anyone to go with me.”

“Not anymore,” Deanna said. “You’re stuck drinking with me now.”

Tasha ordered two shots of her own concoction. “To drinking buddies. Cheers!”

Deanna clinked her tiny glass Tasha’s and downed whatever it was Tasha had handed her. She instantly regretted it.

“Gah!” She wheezed. “What even _is_ this?”

“I used to get drunk off it all the time,” Tasha said, staring at a disgusted Deanna. “The first years I actually had any money I’d make shots out of any alcohol I could get my hands on. This is actually the one that tasted the least like straight up ethanol.”

“God, what’s in it?” Deanna held up a hand. “No wait, I don’t really want to know. How the hell did you not die just tasting this?”

Tasha shrugged. “To be honest, I feel like I’ve cheated death enough to bargain my way out of dying at this point.”

Deanna looked over at her friend. Sometimes Tasha said things that made her want to just smother her friend in love and hugs. And kisses. God, Deanna really wanted to kiss her. She blushed and stared down at the bar table. She accepted another shot of whatever it was.

Three hours later and Deanna was practically halfway into the afterlife. She’d later wonder why, she had moderated her alcoholic intake after the two shots. She’d then realize she’s not as good at drinking as she thinks.

But at the moment, all Deanna could think about was Tasha and the cab to get back home.

“You smell,” she slurred, “you smell like… like a flower.”

Tasha giggled. “Hmm what kind of flower?”

“I don’t know flowers,” Deanna said, messing with a small, misplaced strand of Tasha’s hair. “Maybe like one of those big bright ones. Y’know… like… like the ones… on my dress…”

Tasha shoved her slightly. “Get in the cab!”

 “You gonna make me go by myself?” Deanna cried.

Tasha exhaled and shoved her way into the taxi. “Shoulda called Will.”

“Will-scmill,” Deanna said. “You’re with me, baby.”

“Lady,” Tasha said to the taxi driver, “take us to Deanna’s!”

“I’m going to need an address for that,” remarked the driver.

Deanna snorted and clung onto Tasha’s arm. “Three… no… two three five… two three five Sylvester Road.”

“Okay,” the taxi driver shook her head. “But you’re going to need to put your seatbelts on.”

Deanna stuck her tongue out at the driver and buckled. Tasha kept slamming the buckle into the seat. She eventually clicked it in and smiled at Deanna. She flopped sideways onto Deanna’s lap.

“Play with my hair again,” she said.

“Miss, I’m going to need you to sit up,” the driver pleaded. “I’m not having another drunk girl puking in my cab.”

“I’m not drunk, so I won’t puke,” Tasha said. She picked up Deanna’s hand and placed it on her head. “Play with my hair, Dee.”

“No, sit up!” Deanna said, smacking Tasha’s forehead. “I wanna go home!”

+“Hnn fine,” Tasha sighed.

The taxi finally pulled off and Deanna took one of Tasha’s hands. She didn’t know why, but she did. And it felt amazing. Everything felt amazing at the time, but holding Tasha’s hand felt even better than amazing. It was like holding the sun in her palm.

Tasha looked at her with a happy smile. Deanna felt like kissing her. So she reached out to Tasha’s cheek and pulled her close. And then kissed her. From there on was a blur.

The next morning, Deanna woke up to find an ache in her head and Tasha in her bed. She blinked a few times, in attempts to try to shake the pain and to see if her mind was playing tricks on her. Both the pain and Tasha remained.

She was trying to think back to late last night when Tasha stirred.

“Morning,” she breathed. She stretched her arms and smiled up at Deanna.

“Did we…?” Deanna asked.

“I think we did,” Tasha said, the grin fading slightly. “Is that… okay?”

It was Deanna’s turn to beam. “Yeah.”

“You sure this won’t affect our friendship or anything?”

“I’m positive. In fact,” Deanna said, leaning down to Tasha, “I was wondering why we hadn’t done this sooner.”

“Really?” The smile returned to Tasha’s face.

“Tasha, I’ve been wild about you for years,” Deanna murmured, kissing her forehead. “I thought you knew.”

“No kidding,” Tasha said, staring into Deanna’s eyes. It made Deanna feel butterflies in her stomach. “I’ve been crazy about _you_.”

“Well, then.” Deanna stroked Tasha’s cheek. “You want to go out sometime? Maybe for breakfast? Now?”

Tasha propped herself up. “Definitely. But first…”

And Tasha pulled Deanna in for a kiss like no other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to be a bit of a wait for the next two months while I finish up a bunch of stuff. That's also why it is how it is - less time to actually plan before writing. And surprise, surprise! No editing! I promise I'll come back and do it all later when I have time. 
> 
> Also, I feel I should make you all aware of the timeline. I chose dates from this year to make it easy, but here they are (chapter by chapter):  
> 1- Sunday, May 13th  
> 2/3- Monday, May 14th  
> 4- Tuesday, May 15th  
> 5- Friday, May 18th  
> 6- Monday, May 21st  
> 7- Tuesday, May 22nd  
> 8- Wednesday, June 6th/Friday June 8th  
> 9/10- Tuesday, June 12th  
> 11- Monday, June 25th  
> 12- Thursday, June 28th  
> 13- Friday, June 29th  
> 14- Friday, July 6th  
> 15- Saturday, July 7th,  
> 16- Sunday, July 8th  
> 17/18- Monday, July 9th  
> 19- Wednesday, July 11th  
> 20- Friday, July 13th  
> 21- Wednesday, July 18th  
> 22/23- Thursday, July 26th  
> 24- Friday, July 27th  
> 25- Monday, July 30th  
> 26- Thursday, August 2nd  
> 27- Tuesday, August 7th  
> 28- Wednesday, August 8th  
> 29- Friday, August 10th  
> 30- Wait and see...


	9. Jadzia/Nog/Geordi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A week later  
> Tuesday, June 12th

The sun shone brightly through the windshield of the car. Jadzia leaned her head back against the headrest and sighed.

Kira looked over at her. “What?”

“I’m tired and bored out of my mind,” Jadzia said, turning to stare into Kira’s aviators. “Like, I’ve never felt more bored than I ever have before.”

“Huh, you never sat in my fifth grade class,” Kira said. “Mrs. Winn. Snobbiest, rudest lady you could ever meet. And droned on for ages.”

“Oof, that’s rough,” Jadzia said apologetically. “I had pretty good teachers.”

“I’d kill for your life, man,” Kira laughed.

Jadzia raised her eyebrows. “Dang, Nerys, that’s a bit much.”

Kira shoved her playfully. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Do I?” Jadzia teased.

“ _Now_ I will kill you,” Kira threatened mockingly. She reached a hand out as if to strangle Jadzia.

“Hey, hey! Hands on the wheel!” Jadzia exclaimed. “You’ll end up killing both of us that way!”

“What are you gonna do, call the cops on me?” Kira asked, her eyebrows raising high over her sunglasses.

Jadzia shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Kira’s phone started ringing, and she shoved it at Jadzia. “Answer it, please.”

Jadzia took the phone, swiped the screen, and held it to her ear. “Yes?”

“Old Man?” Sisko’s voice asked.

“What’s up Benjamin?” Jadzia asked, holding the phone between her shoulder and ear as she fixed her hair.

“What are you and Kira up to right now?”

“We’re just getting back from that lady who called about an attempted robbery,” Jadzia said. “Nothing happened, it was just her neighbor’s dog.”

Jadzia heard Sisko sigh. “People sometimes. Okay, I need you two to do something.”

“Hold on,” she told him. She pulled the phone from her ear and pressed the screen. “Okay, you’re on speaker phone. What do you want us to do?”

The quality of sound severely degraded on speaker phone, but Sisko’s voice still crackled through. “We’ve received a tip about our mysterious misplaced shipment.”

“You mean the thing from three weeks ago? Someone somehow knows where that went?” Kira asked.

“Well, yes and no. That’s all I can say. They didn’t tell me anything else.”

“You? Don’t you mean the tip line?” Jadzia frowned.

“No. That’s the other weird thing. They called my number,” Sisko said. “Please find them. I’d like to have a personal chat with them.”

“Okay, where is this person?” Kira asked.

“He said you can pick him up on the corner of 13th and Nechayev,” Sisko said, “by the large café called… oh, I don’t remember. He’s by some café on the corner. Please go get him. He’ll be there in a half an hour.”

Kira gawked at her phone bewilderedly. “Wait, he won’t be there when we arrive?”

“No, I suppose not,” Sisko said. “Just bring him in, okay?”

And then he hung up.

Kira was still staring down the phone with wild eyes. “How the hell are we supposed to know who we’re looking for? Why won’t he be there?”

Jadzia shrugged and shook her head. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see. You’re going to have to turn back around, though. We passed Nechayev five minutes ago.”

Kira grumbled and pulled into the leftmost lane. “You think I can turn the siren on?”

“Please don’t,” Jadzia said. “I don’t want to make it look like we’re chasing anyone. That’s never fun. Besides, we’re going to be waiting for a while, and I’m in no mood to make that even longer than it needs to be.”

“Ugh, fine,” Kira said.

Jadzia stared out into the early morning light as Kira turned back around. The sidewalks were filled with walking people. They all had their heads down, not acknowledging anyone else’s existence. Jadzia felt like joining them; she could use a walk.

Traffic was beginning to slow as more and more people joined the morning bustle to work. Jadzia wanted to slam her head into the dashboard when a crappy car drove up next to them. The driver had the music turned all the way up, and Jadzia could feel every beat vibrate the whole block. Luckily, an agonizing two blocks later they separated, and Jadzia could rest easy again.

Kira pulled to the curb near a café. “You think this is it?”

Jadzia looked around. They were indeed near the corner of 13th and Nechayev, so Jadzia shrugged. “Probably.”

“Well, we’ve got…” Kira checked the time. “… roughly about fifteen minutes.”

“Hm. What do you wanna do to pass the time?” Jadzia asked.

“Oh!” Kira turned to her. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“Tell me more about this infamous Mrs. Winn,” Jadzia said. “I know very little about your childhood.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Kira said, pulling off her aviators. “She was just a pain in the ass.”

“What’s the worst thing she did?” Jadzia asked, leaning back in her seat.

Kira rested an arm on top of the wheel and placed her cheek in the palm of her hand. “I suppose there was that one time she… okay, for context’s sake, you’ve got to remember it was a religious school.”

“Gotcha.”

“Well, she used to challenge all scientific principals any chance she got. One time we were talking about space, and this kid who was waaaay smarter than all of us started talking about wormholes and crazy stuff like that. And she went off on him. The whole day was bash-Otis-day for Mrs. Winn. And the rest of the week. It was awful. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the worst thing she did, but I just can’t remember most of it.”

Jadzia whistled. “Damn.”

“Yeah. She was quite the lady. She hated everything that didn’t follow her own personal interpretations of literally anything,” Kira said.

“No offense, but I’m really glad I didn’t go to your school,” Jadzia remarked.

“What was normal school even like?” Kira asked. “I used to get so many different answers when I was younger.”

“I don’t know about anybody else’s schools, but mine were always pretty decent,” Jadzia said, playing with the car’s sun visor.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I had the best teachers ever, in my opinion. Actually, there was this one time in seventh grade-”

And Jadzia went on to elaborate how her childhood was in public schools and Kira would comment on how different her childhood was from Jadzia’s. It turns out that there were a few more similarities than they had expected. They were both fed terrible lunches by their schools.

“There was one time,” Kira said, “when Mrs. Winn and Mrs. Opaka got into a fight about love.”

“Love?” Jadzia asked. “What do you mean?”

“To be honest, I don’t even remember,” Kira confessed. “I’m pretty sure it was along the ‘love your neighbor’ lines or something. Anyway, the point is for a whole lunch period, Mrs. Winn screeched her head off at Mrs. Opaka. Mrs. Opaka, being the amazing woman she was, didn’t even flinch. She took the beating and then felled Mrs. Winn with one single sentence. I wish I could remember what it was.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jadzia stared into Kira’s eyes. They were sparkling and filled with laughter.

She could have sworn she knew what Kira was going to do next, so she leaned in close and…

For a brief second, they were kissing. And then they weren’t.

“ _Hey_!” Kira yelped, shoving Jadzia away.

Jadzia clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. I thought… I thought that’s what you were…I’m so sorry.”

Kira opened her mouth to say something. No doubt it was not uncalled for, but Jadzia felt herself tense up to brace for the words.

Whatever Kira was going to say was hastily cut off by a loud rapping behind Jadzia. Praising whatever deities may exist, she turned around to look out her window.

A man stared straight at her, still rapping on the window. Jadzia lowered it, and he peered inside.

“Are you guys from Sisko?” asked the man.

Kira cleared her throat. “Yes, yes we are. Who are you?”

“My name’s Damar,” said Damar.

“Damar what?” Jadzia asked.

“Actually, Damar’s my last name,” Damar said, “but I only go by Damar. Can I come in?”

“Be my guest,” Kira said cautiously.

“You’re taking me to Sisko, right?” Damar asked.

“That’s right,” Kira said.

“Good. It’s important that you do.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Jadzia began, “what took you so long to get here?”

“Well, I was walking. And I also had to lay low, cause if I was caught, it’d be over for me,” Damar said nervously.

“What?”

“Perhaps it’d be best if you just, ya know, took me to your Sisko,” Damar chuckled anxiously. “It’d just be… well, better… in the long run…”

“Alright, then.”

* * *

 

Nog raised an eyebrow. “So you’re bringing in your dad’s food to work?”

Jake lovingly caressed his fiancé’s ear. “Yep. And then I’m going to go.”

“But you always hang around when you start work later,” Nog said, folding his arms.

“I know, I just… have stuff I need to be doing. I think I have another chapter for my book,” Jake said.

Nog wasn’t really sure he believed Jake, but he played along anyway. “Oh. Which book?”

“The one about the space station,” Jake said. “You know, the one where I turned you into an orange alien?”

“Yeah, you made my ears super big and my family super greedy,” Nog said.

Jake smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, babe. It had to be someone. And your ears aren’t _that_ big.”

“Yes they are!” Nog cried. “I read the third chapter!”

“Okay, they might be a little big, but I swear it has nothing to do with your ears. I just had to think of something to make you seem alien,” Jake said.

“You could have just made yourself the alien.”

“Aw, but I made you a cute alien!”

Nog blushed, and Jake pulled him in for a kiss. Whatever Jake was hiding from him was pushed from his mind for those few precious seconds.

* * *

 

Geordi leaned against the wall. “Ready to go?”

“One moment,” Data said. “I just have to grab… ah. I am set.”

“What?”

“I was removing Spot’s collar.”

“Data,” Geordi sighed, “you know that’s on for a reason.”

There was a tiny huff and a click.

“I put it back on.”

“Good.” Geordi folded his arms. “We have to keep that on. You know how much she gets out.”

“She does not like the collar, Geordi,” Data said.

“I know, I know. But if we want to actually, y’know, _keep her,_ we’re going to have to leave it on.” Geordi readjusted his bag on his shoulder. “Now let’s go, I’ve got a busy day ahead of me.”

“You are going to help fix a company’s computer systems today, correct?” Data asked.

“Yep.”

“Do you have everything you need?”

“I think so,” Geordi said, patting his bag lightly.  

“And you are sure you do not need a ride?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one already.” Geordi walked out the door. “You coming?”

“Goodbye, Spot!” Data called before the door shut.

“Softie,” Geordi muttered under his breath with a smile.

Data kissed the back of Geordi’s head in response. Geordi slipped his hand into Data’s, and they began the short journey to the car.

“Music?” Data asked once they were in the car and on their way. 

“Hmm.” Geordi contemplated his options. “Not really feeling Mozart or Brahms at the moment. Mussorgsky, maybe?”

“Mussorgsky it is,” Data said, and suddenly Geordi was being serenaded by Mussorgsky’s _Pictures at an Exhibition_.

Geordi relaxed and listened to it with a gentle peace. Back when they first started dating, Geordi wasn’t really into Data’s taste in music. All he ever listened to was classical music, and Geordi couldn’t stand it. Eventually he got the hang of it, and he was slowly learning the difference between each period. He had even picked out a favorite composer.

He felt the warm morning sunshine through the window, and smiled. He loved spring. It was warm, but not too hot. It smelled like rain and mud, which Geordi absolutely loved. He also loved how much Data appreciated it. Data might not be the most emotional person, but Geordi knew how much spring excited him.

A fine exhibit of that was when they stepped out of the car, and Data took the smallest inhale. That was always Data’s way of taking everything in. Geordi smiled to himself. Happy Data was always the sweetest thing.

“When do you need to leave?” Data asked as they walked into the station.

“Around nine,” Geordi said. “What time is it now?”

“It is… about eight forty,” Data said.

“Data, it’s me. You can be as precise as you want.”

“It is eight thirty nine and thirty four seconds,” Data said in light tone. “Would you like to join the detectives upstairs until then?”

“Sure. I’m probably not going to get any work done before I leave, so why not?”

“I am sure no one else will be able to do anything either while you are up there,” Data remarked.

Geordi frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”

“I have noticed that when you are upstairs, people tend to forgo work in order to talk to you,” Data said.

“No, I know what you meant. I don’t know what you meant _by_ it,” Geordi said.

“Oh.” Data sounded alarmed. “I did not mean to offend you, Geordi. I only meant to say that you are a popular-”

“It’s okay, I get it.” And then Geordi realized what he did. “Oh, shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“That is alright. As we have both erred, I believe it is acceptable.”

“Are we even?”

“Yes,” Data said, and Geordi was drawn in for a small kiss.

“You almost make me regret accepting a ride,” Geordi said as they stepped into an elevator.

“Almost?” asked Data.

“Well, you can’t have me distract you from your work, now can you?” Geordi asked, snuggling in close to Data. “Crime would go up, this city would fall…”

“I do not believe that is a logical chain of reasoning,” Data said.

Geordi sighed happily. “No, but you can’t deny, you are one hell of a hero. If not for the city, then at least for me.”

“That is most appreciated, Geordi. I endeavor to do my job well, and I do hope to make a difference. I am pleased I meet your expectations.”

“Meet them? Babe, you soar high above them,” Geordi said, and the elevator doors _swooshed_ open.

“Geordi!” Came a few calls from various locations in the room.

“As I said,” Data said, “you are very popular. Here they come. I shall leave you to them for the moment, I need to speak to Captain Picard.”

Geordi felt Data slip away, and suddenly Ro’s voice was right next to him.

“Geordi! Guess what?”

Geordi felt himself beaming. God, he loved his friends. “What?”

“Okay, so yesterday,” she began in a rush, “Reg and I were thinking: what if we all were de-evolved into something nonhuman?”

“Go on?”

 “Okay, well, we were thinking really hard and this is what we came up with. We thought that Deanna would turn into an amphibian of some sort. And Reg would turn into an arachnid-”

“A giant spider,” Reg said, and Geordi could practically hear him shudder.

“Yeah! Riker would obviously just revert back to some primate, but Worf would turn into a gigantic scorpion.”

“Goodness. What about me and Data?” Geordi asked.

“We actually thought really hard about Data, but all we could come up with is that he doesn’t de-evolve, he just evolves into like… an android.”

“An android?” Geordi asked skeptically.

“A fully functioning one,” Reg added.

“Oh dear.”

“It was the only thing that suited him. Oh, and we thought it’d be funny if Spot turned into a lizard,” Reg said. “And we hadn’t really figured out what you would be yet.”

“You get my cat, but not me? Why?”

“I have no idea. It was like, twelve last night, and we were tired,” Ro said. “We were helping Wesley unpack things.”

“That’s right! How’s that going for you, Reg?”

“Pretty well. We spend a lot of time in separate areas not talking. It’s great!” Reg sounded enthusiastic.

Geordi smiled. Reg was really coming out of his shell lately, and Geordi was proud of him. He could remember back when Reg was so nervous he could barely stand in the same room as another human being. He let Reg prattle on and on about how nice it was to have someone to talk to who wouldn’t bug him all of the time. Geordi hoped Wesley was doing alright with the arrangement too.

 It wasn’t long before Tasha joined the conversation. Geordi noted how Ro and Reg seemed to quiet themselves and retreat. Tasha still hadn’t curbed her short attitude toward the two of them.

“Saved you a seat by my desk,” she said, “just in case you wanted to talk about actual things.”

“Tash,” Geordi warned. “That’s mean and you know it. They’re actually really nice people, and I think you owe it to them to give them a chance.”

“We can’t all be as nice as you are,” she said.

“You could try,” he offered. “It’s not that hard. Here, I’ll let you in on a secret.”

“Geordi,” she laughed.

“The secret,” he mock whispered, “is to not judge everyone by first appearances. Give them a chance. Gotcha?”

She sighed playfully. “Gotcha. It’s just hard to get along with people who are so… childish.”

“Childish?” he asked. “We’re all childish in our own way, but I think you’re falling a bit short there.”

“All I meant is that they’re naïve.”

“Maybe so. At the same time, they could say the exact opposite about you. You’re too harsh. You’ve lived different lives, that’s all. What softens the potato hardens the egg, right?”

“I guess,” she mumbled. “Here- chair.”

“Thanks. Oooh, this is the good chair! How kind.”

“Anything for the most insufferably accepting know-it-all that I’ve ever met,” Tasha joked.

“That’s me,” Geordi said, leaning back in the comfortable chair. “Hhh. It’s already been a long day and it’s still the morning. Speaking of which, what time is it?”

“It’s about ten to nine, why?”

“I’m going to go work on some company’s systems.”

“Oh, right! Data said something about it yesterday. How’d you get roped into that?”

“Well, my sister’s husband is friends with one of the higher ups in the company, and apparently they’ve been having issues with everything. Apparently the IT guy they hired is an idiot, so my sister offered me up to fix it all.”

“Wow, lucky,” she said sarcastically.

“I know right?” he replied in a dry tone. “Anyway, I’m getting a ride over there in ten minutes from my sister’s husband’s friend to kick that IT guy’s rear in gear.”

“What company is this anyway?” she asked.

“Pakled Co. Packing and Shipping.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s not that big of a company,” he said. “I’m thinking it’s not going to take that long, I’ll be in and out before you know it.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got-”

A loud laugh from Deanna stopped Tasha in the middle of her sentence. She was silent for a brief moment, but she quickly cleared her throat lightly. Geordi could practically feel her blush.

“Tasha?” Geordi asked inquisitively. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

She cleared her throat again. “Ahah… I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. “I mean, we all know you have a crush on Deanna, but this is the first time you’ve gotten embarrassed about it. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Tasha said in a voice that clearly stated that it was not nothing.

“I swear to god, don’t make me ask Deanna,” he cautioned. “I’m not in the mood for guessing games.”

“Fine. We um… we… well…”

“Oh. My. God.” Geordi leaned forward in his chair. “Did you two hook up?”

“… well, yeah.”

Geordi was about to respond when he heard Data’s footsteps.

“I have finished speaking with the captain,” Data informed them.

“Data,” Geordi said in a hushed voice. “Tasha and Deanna hooked up.”

“Indeed,” Data said. “Deanna has just informed me.”

“What?” Tasha asked loudly.

“I said, Deanna has just informed me that the two of you hooked up.” Data registered Geordi’s slight frown. “Oh. You were not asking for repetition. You were inquiring about why Deanna and I were speaking about your affair.”

“Yes!” she hissed.

“I had finished talking to Captain Picard and I noticed she was staring at you. When I asked why, she asked me to keep it a secret, because the two of you were beginning to see each other in private.”

“Yes. Private!” Tasha seethed.

“I am sorry. I had assumed it would be alright to speak about it with the two of you, as Geordi had mentioned your ‘hook up’ already,” Data said.

“Fine! Just don’t talk about it anymore, okay?”

“I will not. I assure you.”

Geordi reached his hand out to Data, and Data intertwined his fingers into Geordi’s.

“See, you can do this when you tell people,” he said, giving Data’s hand a small kiss.

“You can do it when you don’t tell people, too,” Tasha said.

“Yeah, but you can do it all the time when you do,” Geordi said, and he let of Data’s hand so that Data could pull up a chair for himself.

“Look, it’s new, okay? Did you tell everyone right after the two of you started canoodling?” Tasha asked.

“Canoodling? Really?” Geordi asked.

“Canoodling?” Data parroted.

“Look it up, babe,” Geordi said.

“Accessing- ah. ‘Canoodling. To kiss, fondle, or pet amorously.’”

“The way you say it makes it sound good right about now.” Geordi smiled.

“Ugh. Go canoodle in a different room,” Tasha said.

“I believe we do not have enough time to ‘canoodle’ at the moment, Geordi,” Data said. “However, should you still wish to do so later, we can canoodle-”

“Ah ah ah, no,” Tasha butt in. “Hate to interrupt and all, but I certainly do not need to hear about your canoodling life.

Geordi beamed from ear to ear. “Don’t worry, you can talk to me about canoodling all you want later.”

“God, just get out of here!” Tasha yelled. “Go! Argh!”

“We’re going, we’re going,” Geordi said. “Who needs you anyway? C’mon, Data, let’s go. We’re not wanted here. Tasha is against canoodlers.”

He cackled loudly as Tasha let out a huge dramatic sigh. Data, who had taken his jest seriously, had walked halfway across the room before realizing Geordi was not behind him; he returned moments later very confused. Geordi was reminded how much he loved Data for the millionth time that morning.

“I was kidding, but I think it’s probably time to go wait for Mr. Grebnedlog,” Geordi said.

“Grebnedlog?” Tasha asked disbelievingly.

“Yes,” Geordi said. “That is, unfortunately, his name.”

“Well, good luck!” she called as Geordi and Data reentered the elevator.

“I shall miss you today,” Data told Geordi when the doors had closed.

“Aww, babe,” Geordi said, “that’s so sweet. I’m gonna miss you too. Lunch will be absolutely dull without you.”

“I will spend mine with Riker today; however, I will be thinking of you the entire time,” Data said.

“Oh, come here, you romantic,” Geordi said as he pulled Data in for a kiss.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, so Data pulled away. Geordi pouted for a second.

“Gonna leave me like that?” he asked.

“What did you say this man was supposed to look like?”

“I don’t know. Never seen him. Oh, I know my jokes are bad, leave me alone. Anyway, my sister described him as ‘not very attractive, small, and-‘”

“Ahem,” came an awkward cough.

“Geordi, I believe this man is Mr. Grebnedlog,” Data said.

Geordi inhaled sharply. “Yeah, I gathered.”

An uncomfortable silence followed, and Geordi regretted saying everything he had ever said in his life.

“Well,” Grebnedlog said, breaking the spell, “I guess we’d best get going.”

“Yeah,” Geordi said, still mentally cursing himself. “Go on, I’ll follow you to your car.”

Geordi listened to the man’s heavy footsteps as he walked away, and he pulled Data close. “Please walk with me out there. The less time I have to spend alone with him, the better.”

“Of course.” Data said.

“How uncomfortable did he look?” Geordi asked as they began to follow Grebnedlog.

“When I first noticed him, he did seem to look quite… uneasy,” Data said. “After he heard you repeating your sister’s words, he looked both uncomfortable and hurt.”

“Great,” Geordi groaned. “This will be such a wonderful ride. Woohoo.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Yes,” Geordi said.

“Hmm. It would appear he has a good salary. His car is very eloquent.”

“Wow, babe, I thought _I_ was your one and only,” Geordi joked.

“If you are insinuating that I am infatuated with a car, I will inform you that I am not,” Data said.

Geordi beamed. “Never change.”

“As change is inevitable-”

“If you want, you can hop in on the passenger side,” Grebnedlog butted in.

“Right,” Geordi said through gritted teeth. He forced himself to keep a pleasant smile. He squeezed Data’s hand and whispered to him, “I’ll see you later, ok?”

Data squeezed back, and Geordi got into Grebnedlog’s car. He folded his cane, set his bag by his feet, and buckled himself in. Grebnedlog started the car, and the sound the engine lead Geordi to believe that Data had been understating how expensive the car really was.

“So,” Grebnedlog said after a long pause, “what do you do for the police? Your sister said you were a hacker or something?”

“I’m more of a glorified IT guy,” Geordi explained. “I fix the Wi-Fi, I help people get onto their computers after they forget their passwords every day, I update systems. Normal IT stuff, really, but with a bonus of helping out on a few cybercrime cases. I used to be a hacker though, before I met… well, before I met my friends at the precinct.”

“Right.”

The silence returned for a bit. Geordi really wished Grebnedlog would turn on some music or something.

“You know, you look like your sister.”

“So I’ve heard.” He tried his best to make himself sound anything but annoyed and bored to tears.

Grebnedlog continued on in an anxious tone. “I don’t have a sister, but I do have a wife. And two kids.”

“That’s great.” Geordi pretended to be interested.

“My son’s two, but my daughter, my little angel, is four.”

“Cute.”

“Yeah, they’re my world. You never know how good your life can get until you find yourself a beautiful woman and settle down.”

Geordi bit down hard on his tongue. He honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. He couldn’t tell if it was an attack on him or not.

“That’s a nice shirt though. Listen to them much?”

“Ahh…”

The truth was, Geordi was wearing one of Data’s shirts, but he didn’t know which one. Data had some really comfortable shirts that Geordi always loved to steal. Most of those were old shirts that had some big philharmonics or symphonic orchestras on them. He assumed that he was wearing one of the more popular ones today.

He didn’t really know how to explain that to Grebnedlog, especially after that last statement, so he went with the simplest answer. “I… don’t know what shirt I’m wearing.”

“…oh.” Grebnedlog got quiet again.

Geordi tried to ignore the awkward silence again. He focused on the sound of the car on the road and thought about the expensive car again. He still didn’t understand it. How could Grebnedlog have such an expensive car? From what he knew, Pakled Co. was a small and relatively ignored shipping company. He supposed the Mrs. Grebnedlog could probably afford it, but judging Grebnedlog’s character, she was probably a stay-home mother that did nothing but tend the family.

He shoved the whole thing aside. It wasn’t his call to make judgments on families or question where people got their money from.

“So why do you need me, exactly?” he asked.

“In short, the guy we hired to set up our website and stuff, Morris Reginod, hasn’t been the best. Of course back then we couldn’t find anyone better for what we had to offer, but now… well, let’s just say we can do better now than before. And we really need to do better. We’ve got a system now, and we really need to protect it. My boss, Mr. Pakled, the head of the company, has been up my ass to fix it.”

“I see.” Geordi really didn’t see. What could this company need more than a simple website? There wasn’t much to it that he knew of.

“And I can’t let the boss down, can I? He’s been tense lately, for reasons you don’t really need to know. But it’s getting urgent now, so we need you to tidy it all up.”

“Got it.” He didn’t.

“Your sister talked a good game about you, so I hope you match her description,” Grebnedlog said.

“Me too,” Geordi said.

“I heard she’s pregnant?”

“Yeah.” Geordi didn’t feel like divulging his whole life to this man. “How do you meet my sister, again?”

“Well, I was friends Jeff back in college, and I met Ariana when they started dating. I was at their wedding last year. I don’t think I met you,” Grebnedlog said.

“No, I don’t think so.” If he had met Grebnedlog, Geordi wouldn’t have known anyway. There was so many people he had to meet that day that he forgot half of them immediately after. Geordi did remember having fun dancing with Data at the reception, though.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride. Geordi almost sighed in relief when Grebnedlog finally turned on the radio. Unfortunately, it was on a station that played only old, overplayed music. Geordi pitied the poor kids that would have to spend every car ride listening to useless, bland music. He himself could only tolerate it because it was better than dead silence.

Geordi felt the car stop one final time, and the radio and engine shut off.

“I take it we’re here?” Geordi asked.

“Yeah. Do you… do you need any… help?” Grebnedlog asked in the most pathetic voice Geordi had ever heard.

“No, I’m good,” Geordi said as he popped open the car door. The sunlight and warm air felt amazing on his skin.

“Okay. Uh, sidewalk’s right in front of the car. The door’s like, a few feet away.”

Geordi’s cane unfurled with a snap and he shouldered his bag. “Thanks. Go on ahead, I’m right behind you.”

The day was bound to be a really hot, because by the time he had reached the front doors, the humidity was killing him. The air conditioned building was a blessing.

“We’re, uh, just going to do all this at the front desk, okay?” Grebnedlog asked. “I need to keep a lookout on things.”

“Okay?”

“Besides, we don’t really have any other computers. This isn’t an office, it’s a shipping company. We’ve got nothing but trucks on the other side of that wall.” Grebnedlog still sounded nervous. Geordi wondered what this guy’s problem was. “Well, Geordi La Forge, meet Morris Reginod, the reason you’re here.”

“Oh, hey,” came a lazy voice. “Call me Morris.”

“Geordi,” Geordi said, offering his hand. Morris did not shake it. Geordi tried to remember what he told Tasha about not judging people, but he had a feeling he would not like this Morris guy very much.

“Looks like you two will get along just fine!” Grebnedlog laughed anxiously. “Let’s get you set up.”

“Let’s,” muttered Geordi, pulling his bag off his shoulder. “Where do you want me set up?”

“Don’t care,” said Morris. “You’re gonna be doing most of the work, anyway.”

Geordi sighed and set his bag on the desk. “Is here fine?”

“Sure, that’s great, but like I said, I don’t care. Hey, can I have your email so I can send things to you?”

Shaking his head, he told Morris what he needed, and he began to set up his stuff, ignoring the idle chat that Morris directing at him. He checked his phone for any texts, hoping that Data had texted him, but no luck. He bit his lip to keep himself from complaining, and plugged an earbud into an ear.

“Okay, now, tell me exactly what I’m supposed to be doing to your website.”

“Welllll…” Morris began.

He didn’t finish, so Geordi assumed Grebnedlog cut him off.

“What we need from you right now is to fix a few… bugs in the system,” said Grebnedlog. “Morris will go over everything with you. I’ll get out of your hair now”

Geordi heard Morris grumble and start tapping on his keyboard, and his own computer alerted him that he had a new email.

“I sent you a few files to look over,” Morris said. “Or listen over, or whatever.”

“Thanks,” Geordi said, “and you can just say ‘look over.’ It’s fine.”

“Cool, cool.”

Geordi opened the first file. “Holy shit.”

Morris chuckled. “Yeah, we’ve got a lot of stuff to go over. Basically I threw a bunch of random stuff in there so I could get paid, but now I’m going to get fired unless it’s fixed, so I’m kind of counting on you to save my ass.”

Settling in to read long lists of pointless code, Geordi thought about how much he hated stools. They were uncomfortable and encouraged bad posture. The only thing stopping him from asking for a chair was his wish to complete this foolish task as quickly as possible. It was already incredibly bothersome, and Morris was not making it any easier. He spent most of the time talking, and most of it was about himself.

“And that’s my life,” Morris concluded, finally. “Living in my ex’s basement and barely getting paid _or_ laid.”

“Mhm,” Geordi mumbled, trying to tune Morris out so he could listen to his voiceover. “Why did you put all of this crap in and then override it? It’s all useless!”

“Well, it wasn’t back when I was getting paid by the hour to work on this. The longer I spent putting random shit in this, the more money I made. So I took as much time as I wanted.”

Geordi rubbed his temples. “That’s one way to do it.”

“I know, right?”

“That was in no way a compliment,” Geordi sighed.

He daydreamed Data would come save him. He checked his phone again, but his hero had not come to the rescue. He turned his attention back to lines and lines of ever changing font colors. Geordi internally cursed cascading style sheets and Morris.

“Sooo,” Morris began again. “Noticed your ring. You married?”

“Nope, not yet,” Geordi said.

Morris snorted. “What, you chickened out and had to have your girlfriend to propose to you?”

“No. This is a decision we made together. He just got around to proposing first.”

“Oh. Oh!”

Geordi hoped that would shut him up for a bit. If Morris stopped jabbering for at least five minutes, oh, what wonders Geordi could accomplish. He grabbed the other earbud to shove in his ear. He hoped Morris would take it as a sign he was done talking. He got it halfway up to his ear before Morris started up again.

“Hold on,” Morris said, and Geordi threw the earbud back, frustrated. “How can you tell if you like dudes if you’re blind?”

“Probably the same way I would know if I liked girls,” Geordi said through gritted teeth.

“Huh,” Morris huffed. “What’s it like being blind?”

“I don’t know, what’s it like seeing?” Geordi shot back. He was in no mood to placate this man.

“I guess I never tho-”

“Wait a second!” Geordi interrupted him. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?” Morris asked apprehensively.

“This stuff right here. I can’t find anything in the whole website that would need any of this, and there’s nothing to override it. What is it?”

“Umm… it’s probably nothing. Just check it over for mistakes?”

“There’s no mistakes here. It just doesn’t fit and… holy crap what is this even supposed to be for?”

Grebnedlog spoke up for the first time in ages. “There can’t be no mistakes! There’s got to be something!”

“There isn’t,” Geordi assured him. “But this whole file is just off. It doesn’t go with anything.”

“It probably does, you’re just not seeing the whole picture,” Morris said. “Uh, no offense.”

“Again, Morris, it’s fine, I don’t take everything literally. I’ll look it over again, I guess.”

It was an absolutely perfect sheet of coding. No mistakes that he could find. There were no superfluous overrides. He went through it over and over, checking to make sure he had it right. And then he put a piece or two together.

He pulled out his earbud. “What is this?”

“Does it matter?” Grebnedlog asked, his voice raising in pitch.

Geordi crossed his arms. “Now it does.”

“Look, we if could just keep going, it wouldn’t be too much longer until we’re done,” Morris whined.

“No. I want to know exactly what it is I’m doing here, because that’s not your website,” Geordi accused.

There was a dead silence for a few moments before Grebnedlog sighed. “Fine. You’re good, you know. You didn’t even get a fourth of the way through all of the stuff before you figured it out. I was hoping we’d be able to sneak in enough of the website for you to go on without any suspicion.”

Geordi found it hard to believe he wasn’t even a quarter done; he’d spent ages working. “Okay, but what is all of this? What are you doing? More importantly, what are you making me do?”

“I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you anything, because I don’t have the authority to. And even if I could, I don’t think you’d want to know. I don’t know what would happen to you.”

“Is that a threat?” Geordi asked, bewildered.

“Not if it doesn’t need to be,” Grebnedlog warned. He still seemed shifty and nervous.

“Hey, guys?” Morris called, sounding very frightened.

“Oh shit,” Grebnedlog said.

“What?” Geordi asked, concerned.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter that you didn’t finish. You wouldn’t have had the chance to anyway.” Grebnedlog said. Geordi heard the distinct sound of a phone dialing.

“Why?”

“The Borg are here.”

Geordi felt his heart sink to his stomach in a cold fear. “Is what we were just doing the reason why they’re here?”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Grebnedlog said with a stony voice. “It’s all getting deleted. Morris?”

 “What are we doing? Shouldn’t we be calling the cops?” Geordi panicked.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got friends in high places,” Grebnedlog said. For once, he actually sounded confident. “Hold on- hello, Mr. Pakled? No, we didn’t finish. Yes. Yes. Goodbye.”

“They know we’ve deleted it!” Morris cried out.

“Morris, the closet. Take Geordi there,” Grebnedlog said in a steady voice. Geordi thought it was a stupid time for Grebnedlog to start being so sure of himself. Those must be some pretty powerful “friends in high places”.

Geordi hastily reached for his phone, but a shaking hand pulled him from his stool, and his phone slipped from his fingers. He heard it clatter to the ground.

Morris must have seen something that spooked him, because he tugged at Geordi even harder, causing Geordi to trip. He fell to the ground hard, no doubt bruising himself. He sucked air in through his teeth in pain, and Morris practically yanked him to his feet. He heard something crunch beneath his feet, but they kept going. 

Suddenly, Morris let go and Geordi’s world went blank, until the tight grip reappeared on his arm a second later, only to shove him forward and let go again. Geordi collided painfully into something and there was a sound of a door slamming and locking.

Geordi, who was already scared out of his wits, held his breath as a whole new wave of fear settled in. He gingerly held his hands out and felt around him for anything. There were shelves on three walls, and the door as the fourth. Geordi barely fit in the tight space, and it reeked of chemicals, most notably ammonia.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a muffled crash through the door. He pressed his ear against the door, hoping to hear what was going on.

A voice cut through the wood. “We are the Borg. Resistance is futile.”

For a second, Geordi could hear nothing. He waited, and his heart beat furiously in his throat. With his head pressed against the door, he noticed that his glasses were missing. He couldn’t remember where he had lost them, so he assumed they had just recently fallen off. He slowly crouched and felt around the floor of the tight closet for them.

There was a loud bang like a gunshot, and Geordi started in fear. His head struck a shelf. Terrified and hurt, he scuttled as far back as the tiny closet would let him, hoping some distance from the door would keep him safe.

The gunfire picked up, and Geordi curled into a tight ball, holding his head and praying he would get out safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm sorry it's taken so long. As of today, I'm three chapters behind their due dates, and tomorrow it will be four. It'll take a bit for me to catch up, sorry.   
> Second, this is a bit longer than my normal 5,000 words. I think it's near 7,000. I just love Geordi.   
> Third, my knowledge of coding is limited to basic html and css, so if you see any mistakes, contact me and I'll fix it.   
> Last, and probably most important, there has been a change of plans and Jadzia is now trans (haha, a rhyme). This was a new addition, because I foolishly hadn't thought of it before. Yes, I am ashamed. I apologize for it being brought up so late, and it'll be introduced next chapter (I had already written this chapter before this was introduced to me). Maybe in a few years I'll edit this whole mess of a fic and I'll make sure it's brought up in the first Jadzia section, aka the very first chapter.   
> Thank you for being understanding about all of this!


	10. Worf/Riker/Geordi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This begins in the middle of the last part of the past chapter.  
> Tuesday, June 12th
> 
> If you haven't figured out already, there's going to be violence and drug mentions.

Worf walked in precisely at ten. He was almost disappointed to see that no one had noticed his punctuality. He had become used to the detectives being in awe of everything he did. He set his bag on his desk and peered around. No one was at their desks.

Unamused but slightly curious, he went up to Captain Sisko’s office to ask around. Upon seeing that the captain’s desk was also empty, he became more confused. He frowned. He did not know where the detectives and captain could be.

He stepped out of Captain Sisko’s office and stared at all of the vacant desks. There was no way they were not there; bags were draped over chairs and Detective O’Brien’s screen was on. Worf checked it. Three tabs were open: a google search of “how to remove baby puke from curtains”, another google search for “easy to make Japanese food”, and a food blog post on eggplants. Worf wondered whether those last two correlated.

A loud laugh came from the breakroom. Worf noted that it sounded a lot like Detective Dax’s. He straightened his tie and walked towards the room. He had rather come to fancy her brash attitude and bold smile.

Entering the room, he first noticed the two long tables filled with food. Very good looking food. He then noted the detectives plus Detective Quark’s nephew, Deputy Nog, and Captain Sisko’s son, Jake Sisko, sitting around the room. Detective Dax was leaning forward on the couch, stuck between Detectives O’Brien and Bashir, clearly telling a story. Worf saw that Detective Kira was in the back corner, looking sulky and furious. He found that odd, as he knew Detective Dax and Detective Kira were very close friends.

“… and then he kept talking about some drink called kanar or something. I think it’s syrup mixed with some alcohol, but I couldn’t tell,” Detective Dax laughed. “That guy’s a nut.”

She leaned back, throwing her arms on the back of couch behind Detective O’Brien and Detective Bashir, her paper plate balancing on one of her legs. Worf thought she was one of the most captivating people he had ever seen. He watched her look back at Detective Kira and quickly her head back. He barely caught the slight shift in her expression. There must have been something going on between those two.

“Hey, Sergeant,” Jake Sisko said.

Worf snapped his attention to the lanky man, who was standing behind the chair Deputy Nog was sitting in and waving at Worf. Deputy Nog was staring at him with a gaping mouth. Worf wondered if it was out of awe, fear, or something else entirely.

Worf nodded curtly to the captain’s son. “Hello, Jake Sisko.”

“You can just call me Jake,” Jake said with an awkward grin on his face. “And there’s food if you want some. My dad made it.”

“Benjamin’s one of the best chefs I know,” Detective Dax said. “Try the eggs.”

Worf was unsure of Detective Dax’s use of Captain Sisko’s first name. While he had been familiar enough in the 17th precinct to use the first names of the detectives, he had never been so forward as to call Captain Picard “Jean-Luc”. He shuddered at the thought of such a breach in protocol.

“I mean, I think my grandpa’s is probably better,” Jake admitted. “He’s the one with the restaurant.”

 “I have already eaten,” Worf said. “However, I am sure the captain’s cooking is… notable.”

“Pah,” scoffed Detective Quark from by the tables. “Spoken like someone who’s never eaten Sisko’s food.”

“Well, I can leave some here, if you want some later,” Jake said. “Otherwise I have to pack it up so I’m not late for work.”

“Oh, leave it. I can take care of it.” Detective Dax said.

Jake raised an eyebrow at her. “Really?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she said, waving it off.

“Okay, but don’t blame me if he yells,” Jake said. He kissed the top of Deputy Nog’s head and started to head out.

“You’re not the only who can disappoint him,” Detective Dax said. Worf wondered how this could possibly be something worthy of bragging. “You’re not the only one he raised.”

“Whatever,” Jake called back over his shoulder as he left.

“I should, um, go too,” Deputy Nog said. He was still staring at Worf.

“Are you and Jake still coming over for dinner?” Detective Quark asked.

Deputy Nog nodded. “We’ll be there at seven.” He took one last look at Worf and ducked out.

“Seriously, Sergeant,” Detective Dax said, “Benjamin won’t be too pleased if you don’t at least try something.” She took a bite of something Worf couldn’t see.

Worf folded his hands behind his back. “I will take my chances.”

“Mm!” Detective Dax mumbled through a mouthful. She held a hand in front of her mouth until she finished chewing. “Crap, I forgot. He’s actually waiting for you in an interrogation room, sorry.”

Worf’s eyebrows raised and he stared at her. She wasn’t looking at him; she had turned her attention back to whatever she was eating. He shook his head and left the room.

He found the captain standing behind the mirrored glass, examining the interrogation room. Captain Sisko did not look up when Worf entered the room. He kept staring at the man on the other side of the glass.

“Good morning, Sergeant,” Captain Sisko said, still not looking at him.

Worf stood straighter. “Good morning, sir.”

“Did you have a crêpe?”

Worf frowned. “A what?”

“A crêpe.” The captain’s eyes were fixed on the man in the other room.

“No, sir,” Worf said. “I had already eaten this morning and I did not find it necessary to eat again at the moment.”

“Hmm.”

Captain Sisko’s face remained neutral, so Worf could not tell if he had offended him in any way. Worf followed his gaze to the stranger, who was checking out the interrogation room and nodding slightly, as if he approved of the place.

“Your son left the food, and I assure you, I will eat some later,” Worf said.

“Jadzia said she’d clean it up.”

Worf raised an eyebrow. “How did you know?”

“I know Jadzia,” Captain Sisko said. His face broke into a smile and he finally looked at Worf. “Coming?”

“I know nothing about this case,” Worf said to Captain Sisko as he followed him out of the room.

“Neither do I,” Captain Sisko said, tossing a manila folder over his shoulder at Worf, who barely caught it. He opened the door to the other side of the interrogation room. “Mr. Damar, pleasure to meet you!”

The stranger, Mr. Damar, smiled at the captain. “I’d say the same to you, but unfortunately my circumstances are slightly less than ideal.”

“Well, we’ll see what we can do about that,” Captain Sisko said cheerily. “Now, what do you have for us?”

“Wait, hold on, you’ve heard my demands?” Mr. Damar held his hands up. “I’m not saying nothing without knowing if my end of the bargain was held up.”

“I assure you, Mr. Damar, we will grant you safety. _If_ , and only _if_ , your information is worth our while,” Captain Sisko said with the same sunny smile.

Mr. Damar pulled a face. “Yeah, yeah. And it’s just Damar. I’m not no mister.”

“Indeed,” said the captain.

Damar chewed a lip, while his eyes shifted back and forth between Worf and Captain Sisko. “Alrighty. I’ll tell you things.”

Captain Sisko spread his hands open. “Go right on ahead.”

“Um, I think you should know first that I-”

“We know you’re a Cardassian,” Captain Sisko said. Worf gawked at him in shock.

“Was. I’m defecting as of now.”

“You do not simply defect from the Cardassians,” Worf maintained.

“Well, that’s why I’m here trying to get myself some protection,” Damar said, rolling his eyes. “You think any Cardassian would come to the cops? What kind of idiots do you think they are?”

“Information, please,” Captain Sisko sighed. “We’re not here to dispute how intelligent your ex-buddies are.”

“Right, right. Here’s what I can tell you.”

Worf and Captain Sisko both prepared to take notes.

“I can’t tell you everything, because I don’t know much. I’m not a very important person as of late. I guess that itself important though, so I’ll just start when I was main player in all of this.

“It was a few months ago, I dunno, in March maybe? It was the beginning of spring. I know that cause it started to rain a lot. Actually, it was a rainy day when I got demoted. More like booted down to the lowest ranks. Anyways, I was coming in to meet my boss, the head man of the whole gang, Dukat. No, no, don’t write that down, he’s dead now. Or worse. Point is, he’s out of the question, don’t bother with him. He said to me that he had met some new business partners, would I like to go check them out? See if they’re legitimate and such. So I went to check them out, like a good second in command. Yeah, I was up that high. Not much to brag about now, I guess.

“So I went in to this meeting blind, cause nobody knew nothing about them. I waited hours past our meeting time. _Hours_. And then they finally show up, and it’s not even the boss. It’s just some dude who called himself a ‘Vorta’ or whatever the hell that means. He claimed it meant he was a right hand man of the ‘Founder’ or some shit. Claimed that this ‘Founder’ dude was the head of the Dominion, which is what I guess what they call themselves. Whack.

“The meeting was a dud, nothing happened. I went back to tell this to Dukat, but he’s gone, as per usual when someone new takes over. But this time it was different. There was no uprising faction or nothing. No one liked Dukat, but no one minded him either, so no one _wanted_ to take over. But he was gone anyways. And when I report to this new guy, I wasn’t able to, cause suddenly I was booted down.

“I moved on and I just accepted that the way it was over the next couple of months, because that’s what happens sometimes when leadership changes. But then I noticed that I was being watched and stuff, so I knew something wasn’t right. So I go over all of the details of the meeting in March, and I remember that the ‘Vorta’ dude never mentioned what kind of business the Dominion wanted with us. So I manage to sneak around, cause I’m good at that shit, and I hear whispers from some higher ups. Drugs. Now, the Cardassians ain’t new to the drug cartel business. I see you writing that down. I really hope that isn’t news to you people. Oh, Evidence schmevidence, I don’t care what charges you slap on the Cardassians, I just want protection. My point is, if anyone knows how to deal out drugs, it’s the Cardassians.

“So I get to snooping about again. I want to know what I lost my job for, right? I mean, it’s not every day that you lose a nice, cozy position to one where you’re being watched all day and night. And what I learn from a few decent people- yes, you heard me right, there’s decent Cardassians. No, I will not tell you their names, they’ll be slapped with drug charges. I’m not stupid. Now, if you’ll stop interrupting, I was saying that I learned they’re back at the drug game, but this time it’s much worse.”

There was a brief pause.

“Okay, most of that was backstory, most of it useless, all that gets is a charge slapped across your own back for being a part of the Cardassians, which you just admitted is partly a drug cartel,” Captain Sisko said.

“No, no, man. You’re not listening,” Damar said, shaking his head “This shit is wicked violent, man. It ain’t no cocaine or ecstasy. It’s worse.”

“How?” Worf asked.

Damar shrugged. “I dunno, I’m no expert on drugs. It’s some new crap. Hella addictive and it’s starting to get pushed around everywhere. Here, gimme that pen, I can show you what it’s being shipped out as.”

“No, hold on,” Captain Sisko said, “I’ll be right back with something.”

He left the room in a rush, leaving Damar with Worf.

“Soo,” Damar said. “What am I looking at? Protection or nah?”

“We are not done with you yet,” Worf said.

“Mmkay,” Damar said. “You know I’m drunk, right?”

“I could tell,” Worf growled. Damar did reek of alcohol.

“As I was telling those pretty chicks in the car, I drink a little something called ‘kanar’. Ever heard of it?”

“No.” Worf said curtly.

“Well, let me tell you about it. Kanar is made from a combination of the finest liquor and-”

“Here, is this it?” Captain Sisko had returned, holding a plastic bag in his hand. He slid it over to Damar, and Worf saw that it was the empty vial from last month’s failed drug bust.

“Yeah!” Damar nodded, then narrowed his eyes. “Wait, you already knew about this?”

“Not exactly. And now we still know next to nothing, but at least we know who’s behind it all.”

“So you’re saying I could still-” 

“I’m going to stop you right there before you make a fool of yourself,” Captain Sisko said. “Sergeant, please take this out. Damar and I here need to have ourselves a little chat.”

Worf took the plastic bag from the captain and left the room. He handed the bag off to an awaiting officer, who placed the bag in a box and carried it off. He frowned, but continued on. He had paperwork he needed to do.

He sat down at his desk and turned his computer on. It was slow. He wished he was back at the 17th precinct. Geordi could fix it in a heartbeat. Worf remembered all of his “did you try turning it off and on again” jokes with a small smile.

An hour flew by before he knew it, and he found himself slipping away from his work into a long train of random thoughts. He spent a while thinking about etymology. And then he thought about the etymology of etymology and sent himself into a small existential crisis.

He was abruptly yanked out of his internal predicament by a plate of food being slapped down on his desk in front of him.

“I reheated some food for you. I don’t know how it’s going to taste, because I’ve never been such an idiot that I didn’t eat Benjamin’s food right away,” Detective Dax said, leaning on his desk.

Worf raised an eyebrow at her. “I thank you for the food, but I could have grabbed my own if I had so chosen.”

“Well, having friends means you don’t have to get your own food for yourself,” she said, toying with her hair. “Or didn’t you know that?”

“I did not know we were friends,” Worf said.

She smiled at him. “Well, I brought you food, so I guess we are now.”

Worf sincerely hoped this was an attempt at flirting. He tried to quickly think of things that women would like. Tasha and Ro liked flattery and Deanna liked children. “My son could learn a lot from someone with such experiences as yourself. You should meet him.”

“Oh!” Detective Dax said, her eyes going wide with a new light. “Is your son transgender or pansexual? Or both?”

He stared at her.

Her mouth made an “o” shape and she nodded slowly. “Oookay. That’s not where you were headed, then.”

He blinked.

“I’m guessing you didn’t know I was either of those,” she said.

Worf cleared his throat. “No. I did not.”

“Well,” she said cautiously. “I am. Trans and pan.”

“Ah,” he said. “I am… glad for you?”

“Thanks,” she said. A smile cracked on her face and she held up a hand to her mouth to hide a snort. “I’m sorry, that was just really awkward.”

“Yes, it was,” Worf said with some relief. “I was unsure how to respond.”

“I could tell,” she laughed. “You tried, though, so I’m not gonna hold it against you. That is actually one of the better responses I’ve heard.”

“That is unfortunate,” Worf said.

“Yeah,” she sighed. She then lifted an eyebrow at him. “Wait, hold on, were you trying to use your son to flirt with me?”

“Um,” Worf said. “Yes. I was trying to say that you are very confident, and perhaps you should meet him. With me.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, thanks, I appreciate it. But…”

“But you do not wish to go on a date with me and meet my son,” Worf finished.

“In my defense, that doesn’t sound very first-date like,” Detective Dax said.

“I suppose not.”

To alleviate the tense pause that followed, Worf took a bite of a lukewarm crêpe. It tasted surprisingly good.

“Thank you for bringing me this food, Detective Dax.”

“Please, call me Jadzia. I didn’t pick the name so it could go unused.” She winked.

Worf shot her a sidelong look. “Is that appropriate to refer to you with your first name? We are in the workplace.”

“Ah, who cares? We’re friends!” She gave him a slight shove.

“In that case, you may call me Worf,” Worf said.

“Alright.” She smiled at him. “Okay, well, I’m going to go. I’ve got work to be doing.”

He watched her leave. He noticed Detective Kira was also watching her. She had a very sour expression on her face. Worf didn’t even want to begin to guess what was going on there.

He settled back on his work.

* * *

 

Will knocked on the door before poking his head in. “You wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes,” Picard said, looking up at him. “Come in.”

Closing the door behind him, Will entered the captain’s office. He threw his leg over a chair and sat down.

“Data came in here a few hours ago,” Picard said. “He had some rather interesting news.”

“Klingons?” Will asked.

Picard nodded. “Indeed. It would seem as though our information was correct.”

“So they are falling apart,” Will remarked, stroking his beard.

“The evidence all points in that direction,” Picard said. “Pulling in new recruits, getting into pointless skirmishes, hiding for days on end. It all indicates the fall of the Klingons.”

Will shook his head. “There was once a time when that would have been the best thing you could ever hear. But now…”

“Now it’s just worrisome, yes,” Picard finished for him. “With all of this unrest, it’s hard to imagine losing the Klingons as a good sign.”

“Mm,” Will mumbled in agreement. “Do you think Worf knows?”

Picard shrugged. “No idea. From what I gathered the last time he and I spoke, the 9th precinct is a mess of incompetent fools.”

“Oh, come on, sir,” Will said. “They didn’t seem too bad when we met them. They seemed quite nice.”

“That does not mean that they are in any way good at their jobs. They could have simply been fooling us with a good attitude.” Picard rearranged a few stacks of paper on his desk. He looked at Will. “Don’t tell Deanna or Geordi that I said that. I don’t need another lecture on how to be nice.”

Will smiled roguishly at the captain. “We wouldn’t that, now would we. Speak of the devil…”

Deanna’s face popped into view through the office window. She waved at Picard to gain his attention. When he waved her in, she opened the door. Will immediately noticed something different about her.

“There’s an envelope here for you, sir,” Deanna said. Will stared at her and tried to figure out what was different.

“Thank you,” Picard said.

“No problem.” She smiled cheerily. Something clicked inside Will’s brain.

Deanna had that look that she always had when she started seeing someone new. She was glowing and radiant, and she was dolled up more than usual. Her face was a never-ending smile. Will remembered that look from when they had dated all those years ago. He wondered who the lucky new person was.

“Deanna,” Picard said in a worrying tone, and both Deanna and Will turned around to face him. “Where did you get this?”

Her eyebrows knit together as she sat down on a chair. “A receptionist brought it up here. Why?”

“Which one?” Picard asked.

“Dominique,” Deanna said.

Picard picked up the phone on his desk and dialed a number. “Hello, Dominique? Yes, it is. No, no, this will only be but a moment, don’t worry. I was calling about that envelope you brought up here? Oh. No, it’s fine. Thank you.”

He set the phone down on the receiver with a blank face. Will and Deanna shared a small look. Will wondered what could possibly make the captain look this unnerved.

Picard cleared his throat. “According to Dominique, she looked away from her desk for one second and it suddenly just appeared.”

“Well that’s odd,” Will said.

“And completely impossible,” Deanna added.

“Neither of those apply to this person,” Picard said, showing them the envelope.

“Q.” Will frowned.

“Correct,” Picard said.

“Sorry, but how can you tell?” Deanna asked.

“This ‘Q’ always addresses his notes to ‘mon capitaine’,” Picard explained.

“Well that’s romantic,” Deanna said blatantly.

“More like creepy.” Will leaned forward in his chair. “Open it. See what it says.”

Picard reached in his desk and pulled out a letter opener. Will watched the captain’s frown deepen as his eyes skimmed over the contents of the note. He looked at Deanna, who shrugged at him.

“Will, what time is it?” Picard asked without looking up.

“It is…” Will looked at his watch. “Eleven fifty six. Why?”

“Oh, it just says here at the top that the time is that exactly,” Picard said. “I guess with Q I can’t be too baffled by something like that.”

“What does the rest say?” Deanna asked.

“The normal Q stuff,” Picard said. “It’s got an address and it says ‘hurry!’”

“Well, we should probably go then,” Will said. “If it says hurry, then it’s probably urgent.”

“Knowing Q, or rather, not knowing Q, I’d say it’s nothing important,” Picard said.

“Here, give me the note, I’ll look up the address,” Deanna said, pulling out her phone.

Picard slid the note across the desk to her, and she picked it up and looked at it.

“Aw, you forgot the best part,” Deanna said with a giggle. “There’s a letter ‘q’ in the shape of a heart at the bottom!”

Will tried to look over her shoulder, but she had already returned the note to a very flustered Picard. She typed the address into a search bar and waited. A second later, she was frowning and mouthing something under her breath. She looked up at the wall and mouthed the same words again. She walked to the door and opened it, looking around for someone. She exited the office.

Will looked to Picard, who shrugged at him. He raised his eyebrows, stood up, and walked to the door. He stood next to it, watching Deanna.

Will watched her show her phone to a few people. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but a few detectives looked at the address and shrugged. She looked over at someone’s desk and something dawned on her face. He barely had time to get out of the way as she came barging back through the door.

“Sir,” she said with urgency.  “This isn’t a joke. We need to leave. Now.”

Picard looked at her with a stony face. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Deanna’s expression equaled his.

And within seconds, the precinct was bustling.

* * *

 

Geordi didn’t know how long he was sitting in that ball for. It could have been seconds or hours, or even days, for all he knew. It felt like forever in that closet.

Despite the feeling of timelessness, after a while it felt like there were too many gunshots. He couldn’t possibly believe that was all directed at two people. He assumed that the “friends in high places” must have joined.

He just plugged his ears and curled tighter in his ball. There wasn’t anything else for him to do but sit and wait. He tried to think of literally anything, but he couldn’t. His mind was blank. The world was blank. The only thing he could feel was terror.

The one thing that penetrated the blanket of fear was the smell of the closet. So many chemicals. When Geordi got used to the smell of one, he noticed a new one right away. Once, he reached out to find the closest bottle on his right. If he ever got out of this, he wanted to know each and every one in there. _If_ …

There was a beat where everything was silent. He pulled his hands off of his ears, and uncurled from his ball. He scooted up to the door and pressed his ear back up against it again. He counted his heartbeat to keep track of time. After a few seconds worth of heartbeats, he reached his hand up to the doorknob. It was locked.

He hadn’t noticed himself begin to relax, but he could tell he had when a new wave of dread settled in. Was he going to be locked in there forever? If there were people out there, would they let him out? And how could he be sure they were good people? Were there even people?

And then all at once there was noise again, and he felt his old fear return. He backed up as far as he could again. He just wanted it all to be over; it didn’t matter how it ended. He wanted to be done being terrified out of his wits.

Even through the door, he could still hear things from the other side. Things like voices and footsteps. Once or twice he heard someone say something unintelligible near the door.

The doorknob rattled and Geordi could hear it being unlocked. His heart leaped to his throat and he took deep breaths. The door opened with a gust of air. He waited with terror for anything to happen. A shout, a gunshot, anything really. And…

“Geordi?”

Data.

A pair of hand was suddenly clasping his face, and a forehead pressed to his own.

_Data._

Geordi reached up and touched Data’s face, feeling for every last feature of the man he loved. A rush of relief came over him, and all of the fear drained out of him. Tears came to his eyes, and he did nothing to stop them. So he sat there, Data’s face in his hands and is own in Data’s, sobbing. Data tried to reassure him, but that just made him weep harder.

After a few solid minutes of crying, Geordi calmed himself down.

“I’m sorry,” Geordi said with a watery laugh. “I didn’t mean to cry all over you like that.”

“I am sure it was a well-earned cry,” Data said, lightly stroking away the wetness from Geordi’s face.

“I’m just…” He had to fight down a second flood of tears.

“I understand,” Data said. “You have been through a great ordeal.”

“How did you find me?” he asked after he had fully regained control of his emotions.

“Well, it was a culmination of a little effort on Deanna’s part and a note from the unknown ‘Q’ that really helped us-”

“No, no,” Geordi interrupted. He sighed. “Sorry, that’s the second time today.”

“It is alright.”

“What I had meant,” he said, “was how did you find me in the closet?”

“When we did not find you among the bodies, we came to the natural conclusion that you had escaped somehow. There are four routes you could have taken: the front door, the door to the garage, the bathroom, and the small closet. It was obvious you could not have made it out the front door without getting shot, and the bathroom was also in the line of fire. That left the garage and this closet. Upon further investigation, your glasses were found a short distance from the closet, leaving it the most likely place that you would be hiding.”

Geordi tried his hardest to ignore the “bodies” part. “My glasses…”

“Stay here,” Data said. “I will retrieve them for you.”

Data’s hands and forehead left Geordi’s face, and Geordi immediately wanted to cry out for him to come back. He didn’t want to be alone. Not again. Thankfully, Data returned quickly.

“I am sorry, Geordi.” Data’s voice came from above Geordi. “It would appear as though I cannot remove any objects from the scene, no matter how unimportant to the investigation they are. Even your glasses.”

“That’s okay,” Geordi said. He was probably addressing Data’s legs. He didn’t care. He liked Data’s legs just as much as his face. “As long as I can get them later.”

“I regret to inform you that they are broken,” Data said. “It would appear they were stepped on.”

“Oh. It’s fine.” Geordi was lying and Data probably knew it. He liked those glasses. They fit his face perfectly and Data enjoyed them. At least he knew what that crunching noise from before was. “Can you sit with me for a bit?”

“I am afraid that I cannot, as I am on duty,” Data said.

“Oh,” Geordi said again.

“However, if you were to come with me, I am sure it is most certainly within my duties to make sure civilians are safe and happy,” Data added. “Would you like to assist me in my duties?”

“Yes,” Geordi said.

Data helped him to his feet, but before Data could say or do anything, Geordi drew him in close for a hug. Data’s arms enclosed around him, and for a good few moments, there was nothing but Data and his amazing hug. Geordi reminded himself how much he loved how tall Data was. Data planted a kiss on the top of Geordi’s head, and he let go.

“As I said before, I cannot remove any of your personal belongings from the scene,” Data said, “so I am afraid you can’t have your phone or anything else.”

Geordi frowned. “What about my cane? Surely they know I need that.”

“I suppose we could ask for that,” Data said. Geordi slipped his hand into Data’s and pulled himself as close to him as he possibly could without making walking hard.

“Excuse me,” Data called to someone. “Might we have that?”

A cold, silky voice responded. “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t allow you to remove evidence from the crime scene.”

“It’s not evidence. It’s my cane. I need it,” Geordi pleaded. He really hoped Data was staring at her menacingly, or doing something otherwise intimidating to help him.

“I’m sorry. I still can’t allow you to take it.”

“I am sure you can make an exception,” Data said. “There is nothing to be gained by keeping-”

“Well, I’d like to think we can come to that conclusion on our own. Thank you for asking nicely, but you still can’t have it.”

Geordi was already pissed about not getting the cane back, but talking over Data? That was off limits and Geordi was not having that. He opened his mouth to say something about it, but he felt Data squeeze his hand. He sighed and shut his mouth, and Data lead him away.

“I know that it hardly makes up for your other pair, but I left my sunglasses in the car, if you want them,” Data said.

“Okay,” Geordi said miserably. This was one of the worst days in his life, tied with the day he got stuck in that fire.

“Geordi!” Deanna’s voice called from his right.

“Deanna?”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she gushed, sounding closer now. “We were so worried!”

He didn’t really know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to say ‘thank you’? He threw her a weary smile instead.

Fortunately, she seemed to accept that as an appropriate response. “Since you’re a witness, I’m going to have to pull you aside here and ask you a few questions,” she said.

“Do not worry, Deanna,” Data said. “I was planning to do that myself.”

“Captain said I had to do it. You know how he gets about personal attachments.”

Geordi shrugged. “It’s fine.” It really wasn’t. “Deanna can ask me questions. I probably don’t have much to tell anyway.”

“If you are certain,” Data said.

“I am.” He was not.

“I shall go grab my sunglasses for you and return when you are finished. Is there anything else you needed?”

Geordi shook his head and he felt Data’s hand slip out of his fingers, and the small bubble of safety that Data suspended around him whenever he was near left. Geordi held in a sigh and pretended to smile.

“Seriously, I’m really glad you’re okay. We all are,” she said, touching his arm lightly. Geordi tried his best not to shake her off. He wasn’t in the mood to be handled like a child.

“Thanks. Can we just get this over with?” It came out sounding somewhat whiney.

If he hurt her feelings, it didn’t show in her tone. “Sure.

Deanna asked a dozen or so questions, and Geordi did his best to answer them. Some Deanna had to rephrase once or twice, and others he had nothing to say for. He had no idea of how many Borg there were. He also didn’t know what exactly drew them to Pakled Co. But he did know that whatever it was had been on Morris’s computer, and understanding how inept Morris was at computers, there was probably some way to find it again.

When it was all over, Data reappeared, and Geordi folded into his arms in relief. Geordi just wanted to be with Data.

“I have asked Captain Picard to release me for the remainder of the day, so that I can stay with you,” Data told him, taking his hand and leading him somewhere.

“And he said yes? Shocking.”

“Indeed. I am going to take you home,” Data said “Actually, I am going to take you back to the station the patrol car, and then I will take you home in our own vehicle.”

“Thank you for the accuracy.” Geordi smiled.  “I love you.”

“I love you as well. Watch your step,” he said, pulling Geordi slightly closer.

“What?” Geordi stumbled into Data’s chest.

“You quite nearly stepped on someone,” Data said.

Geordi’s stomach rose to his throat. “Stepped on someone?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“Who?” He didn’t know why he bothered asking when he didn’t really want to confirm his fears.

“Officer D’Sora,” Data said, and Geordi mentally relaxed. “She was examining the body of Mr. Grebnedlog.”

And there it was.

Geordi stopped walking and let go of Data. He let his arm fall to his side and he simply stood there, silent. He didn’t know exactly what he was doing; all he knew was that he felt a sudden, awful emptiness inside him, like he had been hollowed out and left to rot.

“Are you alright?” Data asked.

“Did…” Geordi found it hard to form the words of the question he wanted. “Both?”

“Yes.” The word felt like a punch in the gut. “I am sorry, Geordi.”

“It’s…” He didn’t feel like lying about his feelings anymore. “I mean, neither of them were standup men. Grebnedlog was… probably homophobic and a slew of other crappy things, and Morris was just overall not pleasant, but I’m not sure they deserved this. Grebnedlog had a family.”

“I know.”

He was grateful that Data didn’t force him to feel better. The last thing he wanted was to force some cheery act around the one person he could be himself with. He loved Data for so many reasons, and this was only one of them. And at that moment, it was the best thing Data could do for him.

After a bit of silence and solitude, Geordi reached out for Data again. Data’s hand was in his in milliseconds, as if it had been waiting for them to be joined again from the moment they had parted. Geordi was also thankful for Data’s diligence.

“Take me home,” he said in a whisper.

“To the precinct first,” Data corrected.

That brought a small smile to Geordi’s face, and a bit of the emptiness filled with fondness. “Of course, how could I forget?”

They exited the building and entered the heat of the day. The early June day suddenly felt like a muggy August one. It was sticky, humid, and absolutely gross. Geordi felt like he was melting as soon as one foot stepped outside. The sunshine no longer felt pleasant. It was an ungodly heat.

The squad car was even worse inside. Geordi didn’t even want to touch anything inside it, for fear it would burn him. Data turned the air conditioning on immediately, but the whole car still felt absolutely disgusting. Buckling his seatbelt was a pain, so Geordi held his hands up to the vents to cool them down.

“Quite the summer day, huh?” Geordi said.

Geordi knew what Data was going to say before he said it. “It is not yet summer. It is still spring.”

“Yeah, I know. It just feels like summer,” Geordi said as they began to drive off. “Oh, can you turn on the sirens to get us back faster?”

“No, Geordi, I cannot. You know this.”

“I was just curious. See if you’d do it or not.”

There was a silence. Geordi’s car rides seemed to be filled with them. But this time, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, like the one with Mr. Grebnedlog. It was a safe, loving silence. No pressure to say or do anything other than sit.

Eventually, one question began nagging at him until he could do nothing but ask it.

“Hey, Data?”

“Yes, Geordi?”

“You’ve got an excellent memory.”

“I would tend to agree. And while I am appreciative of the compliment, I gather that this means you have a question involving my ‘excellent memory’?”

“Yeah.”

“Go ahead.”

“What was all in the closet?” The question felt silly, but Geordi really wanted to know what he was stuck in there with.

“Well,” Data began, “it was mainly cleaning products. Bottles of window cleaners on the top shelf, carpet cleaners on the next shelf- no, they did not have carpeting. There were three different brands of bleaches on another shelf, along with ammonia, which is truly a hazardous combination. There was an assortment of buckets on the lowest level. And, of course, there was you. ”

“Huh, imagine finding me in a closet,” Geordi joked.

“I can. I did.”

Geordi loved Data’s cluelessness. Another wonderful trait. “No, Data, that was a joke. Haha, I’m gay. I came out of the closet. Get it?”

“Ah! I see. It is quite clever. However, I would remind you that making jokes about your unfortunate day like so is no doubt unhealthy, and Deanna would disapprove of it greatly.”

“I know. Can I ask another question?”

“Of course.”

“How long was I in there for?”

“Do you know when you entered?” Data asked.

“Yeah, around like eleven forty five,” Geordi said.

“Then quite nearly fifteen minutes,” Data said.

Geordi exhaled. “That’s… I didn’t think it was that long.”

“I cannot claim to be a psychologist, but I would say that it would make sense for you to feel the timing to be off. It was quite a traumatic experience.”

“Oh.”

The stop at the precinct was short, and the ride home was quiet. It was still a good kind of quiet. Data didn’t play music, which Geordi would never admit to liking, but in that moment he really did want silence. Any other time, music would have been absolutely fine.

Entering the apartment was like bliss. Suddenly, emotions felt real again, and they all didn’t just spiral in all at once or not at all. And Geordi just wanted to lay down and cry. Or sleep. Or something. While emotions felt real and all, it didn’t mean Geordi understood what they were.

“Spot!” Geordi called, desperately wanting to hold his little cat.

“Here she is,” Data said, and Geordi heard Data lunge after her and suddenly Spot was in Geordi’s arms.

“Can we canoodle now?” Geordi asked. He did not want to feel whatever emotion he was feeling all by himself.

“Yes, Geordi. I believe now would be an appropriate time to canoodle.”

“Great. I could use a good, long canoodle. And Spot is coming with.”

“I approve of the addition of Spot to our canoodling. I would also approve of adding additional cats to our canoodling.”

“Data, we’re not getting more cats right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Data's mind 24/7: CATS! 
> 
> Like I had said last chapter, I had to abruptly mention that Jadzia is trans in this chapter. In a perfect world, I would have thought of this sooner and it wouldn't have been so rushed and so late. Sorry!  
> As of tomorrow, I will be seven chapters behind. I'm much busier than I had expected. They will all be posted VERY late, but I promise, I will get them done.


	11. Tasha/Julian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 weeks later  
> Monday, June 25th

Tasha turned sideways and examined herself in the mirror. She wasn’t digging how her butt felt in a dress. She had no idea why women wear them. Her legs felt restricted.

She sighed and tried to unzip the dress, only to realize that she couldn’t really reach the zipper. Rearranging her arms so many different ways, she almost screamed with frustration when she couldn’t find the damn thing. After an agonizing fifty seconds, she found the zipper and pulled down. Unfortunately, her arms could only bend so far that way, so she had to figure it out all over again.

When it was finally over, she was so outraged by the dress that she threw it down and kicked it aside. She didn’t want to think about it ever again, and she swore that she’d never wear a dress that she’d have to zip up ever again.

She pulled out a button up shirt and looked it over. Tiny flowers on the hem looked nice, right? If she wore them with her nice black pants, it wouldn’t look too bad. Or she hoped it wouldn’t. She was second-guessing everything. Maybe she should wear that one blouse she never wore. She hated it, but at least it looked decent.

Tasha really just wanted to pull her hair out and cry, but she was running out of time. She only had five minutes left to finish getting ready. She pulled on the flower button up and black pants, praying it was classy enough. She stared at herself in the mirror and fussed with her hair. Undecided between messy and messy another way, she just sighed and let it do its own thing.

She glanced at her phone for the time and gasped. Panicking, she gathered her stuff in her arms somewhat haphazardly and made her way outside. She only dropped stuff twice.

At the door, she organized her stuff and pulled on a pair of boots. She regretted it the second she did, but she had no time to change it, so she just stuffed her wallet in her pocket and headed out the door.

Immediately she saw Deanna, standing next to her shiny black car in the road. Her jaw dropped the instant she saw what Deanna was wearing. A stunning blue dress that exposed her shoulders, cute heels, and big earrings. Tasha fought for breath, and wheezed inward. She was glad Deanna couldn’t hear that.

“Look at you! You look amazing!” Deanna said, beaming. Tasha didn’t know what she was talking about; Deanna was clearly the spectacle out of the two of them.

Tasha looked at her mess of an outfit. “Me? I’m hardly dressed up compared to you.”

“Well, I think you look perfect,” Deanna said. “Very sexy.”

“I don’t match you,” Tasha said, feeling her face get hot.

“Good,” Deanna said. “I don’t want to be mistaken for sisters on a date. Hop in!”

Tasha walked around Deanna’s car and gave herself a mental pep talk. She would not stare at Deanna like a deer in headlights the whole night. She would not forget how to talk. She would not choke on food or drink or anything. She would be the perfect date.

Sliding into the passenger seat, she felt like a stranger. She’d been in the car many times, but always as a friend. Never as a date. It was an awkward feeling.

“I feel like I should be driving,” Tasha said.

Deanna pulled onto the road and began to drive. “Why? I’ve driven you enough for you to know my driving’s better than yours. And my car isn’t stubborn like yours.”

“I guess,” Tasha said. She bit her lip and looked out her window. She was being so stupid.

“Is it because you’re nervous? Do you feel like you’d be less nervous if you were in charge?” Deanna asked.

“Are you sure you want to be a cop? You’d make one hell of a therapist,” Tasha joked.

“Haha. Like that’s the first time you’ve made that joke,” Deanna said sarcastically.

“It’s true though. You’d be so good at it. You’re always so good with anyone you work with, and you listen to people. You just need to get people to pay you for that.”

“Okay, I’m charging you ten cents every minute,” Deanna said.

“Hey! Not me!” Tasha said.

“Why not?”

“Well, I’m your…” Tasha faltered. “Date!”

“So you _are_ nervous,” Deanna said.

Tasha shrugged awkwardly. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

“Can I ask why?” Deanna asked.

“See? Therapist?”

“See? Someone who cares about you,” Deanna countered.

Tasha sighed a little. “I guess it’s because I’m still not used to being your date. Or anything but your friend with a huge crush on you.”

“I guess that makes sense. This is our first real date,” Deanna said, keeping her eyes on the road and rounding a corner. “But I’ll remind you that this isn’t completely different or new, it’s just the next step.”

“If friends to dates is the next step, then Geordi should watch out. I might be dating Data next,” Tasha said.

“That’s not what I meant,” Deanna said with a laugh. “But it’d be funny to see you date Data. What would you even do?”

“I don’t even know,” Tasha laughed. “Oh god. Me? Dating a man? Much less Data… that’s a laugh.”

“See, that’s normal you laughing with me. Just like it’s always been,” Deanna said. “That doesn’t have to change because we’re going out to eat nice food in nice clothes. All that changes is that instead of keeping our feelings hidden, we’re slowly adding them into the mix.”

“Doesn’t sound so scary when you say it like that,” Tasha admitted.

“No, it doesn’t. Oh, wait, another different thing. We get to do more fun things,” Deanna said, winking at Tasha.

“Okay, that’s not helping.”

Deanna giggled. “Sorry. I’ll hit you up with that after we eat our supermarket salads that are sold to us at a higher price for no reason.”

“Oh yeah. It’ll feel real sexy after eating some ‘nice’ expensive salads,” Tasha cracked.

“Definitely.”

It certainly became easier for Tasha to talk after that. She could be as sarcastic as usual with no fear of not being “date-like” and proper. If Deanna really liked her the way she was, she’d just have to be herself.

“Seriously, though, where did you get that shirt?” Deanna asked. “It’s cute as hell. Or maybe that’s just you in it.”

Tasha blushed. While Deanna was right, it was just the continuation of their friendship into a relationship, flirting still made her feel fuzzy inside.

“Well, it was one of my old friend’s shirts. When I told her it was my style, I think she decided that it wasn’t for her. She gave it to me as a present because ‘I liked it so much’. I mean it’s cool and I do like it. I just never knew when to wear it, cause it’s super nice. I almost wore a blouse and I regret it, because I look so much less fancy than you.”

Deanna smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t wear the blouse. It’s not very you. This is more like you, and I think it’s adorable. And who cares about fancy?”

“Um, you do?”

“Oh, I care about fancy on _me_. I’m always so dressed up that it’s hard for me to look fancy, though. This isn’t much different than what I usually wear.”

Tasha would beg to disagree. “I think it’s extraordinary. It looks absolutely jaw-dropping on you. Literally. Did you see me when I walked outside? My jaw was on the sidewalk.”

“Aww, really?” Deanna said.

“I almost died. I saw you and choked on air.”

“Ahh stop,” Deanna said. “No, don’t stop, I love compliments from you.”

“Your hair is incredible, too. Like, I have no idea how you get your hair to do… that!” Tasha touched a strand. “I’ve always loved it.”

“My hair? It’s nothing compared to yours. You can get yours to be so cute any way you do it. It’s formal for work but it looks so sweet. And now? God, it’s just this raw mess of sexy,” Deanna said.

“I just let it do its own thing. I didn’t do anything to it.”

“Good. Do nothing more often.”

“Are you kidding? Look unprofessional while working? Picard would _kill_ me.”

Deanna snorted hard and Tasha looked at her.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that…” Deanna looked like she was having a hard time keeping her face straight. She snorted again, and it broke into a laugh. “He’s probably just jealous!”

“Deanna!” Tasha cried in mock horror. “What happened to being nice?”

“I’m not at work, he can’t boss me around!” Deanna played.

“I’ll be sure to tell everyone how fake your charm is tomorrow! They’ll never feel guilty that they’re not a nice as you ever again!” Tasha exclaimed.

“Pff, I don’t care!” Deanna sassed.

“I’ll make Will look like a lamb compared to you!”

Deanna gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh yes I would!”

“Nooo!” Deanna called. “Curse you!”

“You deserve it!”

Deanna turned one more corner and parked on the curb. “I’m going to lock you in this car and eat the expensive store-bought salad all by myself!”

“That’s child abuse! Even Will wouldn’t sink that far!”

“You’re not a child,” Deanna told her.

“Physically, no, but emotionally? I’m a pre-teen girl that listens to the most dramatic and depressing music!”

Laughing, Deanna got out of the car and came around to Tasha’s side. “There, I got the door for you. Am I nice now?”

Tasha pretended to think for a second. “Hmm. Will would get the door too, so I can’t tell.”

Deanna helped her out. “Ugh, you’re right. Will would stop at nothing to be a perfect gentleman.”

“Looks like you’re just going to have to out-gentleman an expert gentleman,” Tasha said.

“Damn. I’m never going to regain my status in your eyes.”

“Nope. But I’d just like to point out that you dated that man, so I’m going to say that he rubbed off on you to save your skin.” Tasha walked alongside her to the restaurant.

“Well, thank you. I’d like to think that you’re going to rub off on me. So maybe I’m not a lost cause.”

“Come to think of it, you dated Will, and then almost Worf, and now me. You’re going to get everyone in the precinct! Geordi should be afraid of you, not me!”

Deanna shoved her slightly. “I’m not going to date Data and neither are you.”

Tasha looked up at the sign above the restaurant. “Risa?”

“Yeah, have you heard of it?” Deanna asked.

“I think Will was talking about this place once. Or twice. Or all of the time.”

Deanna smiled and rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I found this place first. He only takes his dates here because I told him about it.”

“I wasn’t judging.”

Deanna beckoned her in. “Come on, I was only joking about the salads. They aren’t _actually_ that bad; they’re fresh produce, I promise.”

“Oh good. I mean, I honestly can’t tell the difference between a salad from a package and a salad from a garden anyway,” Tasha said, following her inside.

The front lobby was empty, except for a boy in an unkempt uniform vest standing at the podium, looking at his phone. Tasha suspected he knew that they were there, but he didn’t care. Tasha looked behind him at the restaurant.

The atmosphere of the place was bright, cheery, and relaxed. It was clearly an expensive setting, but it was decked out with the same cozy feeling as a small restaurant. It was like a brighter version of Tasha’s favorite Italian place, in her opinion. Except pricier. And with less pictures of boats

“I know a dozen health fiends that would be after your head if you said that near them,” Deanna said. She tapped the podium to attract the attention of the hostess. “Excuse me? We have a reservation.”

The host’s eyes snapped to Deanna, and seemed to instantly judge her. “Name?”

“Troi with an ‘i’,” Deanna said, ignoring his rude attitude.

“Just the two of you?” he asked lazily.

“Yes,” Deanna said. Tasha was sure she wouldn’t have been as polite as Deanna if she was in her shoes.

He sighed. “Follow me.”

As they trailed him to their table, Tasha caught a better glimpse of the whole place. The ceiling was high and the walls were white. Everything was brightly lit, and the curtains were a nice velvet and were drawn. Tasha guessed they permanently covered the windows. The carpet wasn’t much to look at, but the tables looked fancy, and so did the chairs.

“Right there,” the host said, idly pointing to a table.

“Well he was rude,” Tasha said as he left.

Deanna shook her head. “I know. I’m glad he’s not serving us, though.”

“How is he even working here?” Tasha asked. “You’d think if he was on his phone all of the time in a place this nice, he’d get fired.”

“I’m not even going to speculate,” Deanna said, pulling out a chair for Tasha. “Madame, your chair.”

“Oh, I wanted to do that for you!” Tasha protested.

Deanna quickly sat down on the chair across from the one she had pulled out for Tasha. “I’ve got my gentleman status to uphold. I can’t have you pulling out chairs for me.”

“Next time, I get to do it,” Tasha said. “I call dibs.”

“Fine. But only if I reach my full gentleman potential before then. If not, I have to keep proving it to you. It’s the only way to prove how nice I am.”

“Deal,” Tasha said, sitting down in the chair.

She glanced down at her menu, looking through the various drinks. She knew nothing about wines. She looked up at Deanna, who was flipping through her own menu. Tasha found herself staring at her, entranced by her. Deanna looked beautiful when concentrating. She blinked and looked back down at her menu. She decided to order whatever drink Deanna ordered.

A few seconds later, a man showed up. “Hello, my name is Darius. I will be your waiter today. Is there anything you would like to drink?”

Deanna asked for something Tasha had never heard of, and Tasha asked for one of those, too. Deanna shot her a look, but said nothing.

Darius the waiter left them to decide on their food, and Tasha found herself staring at the menu with absolutely no clue again. She saw some vegetarian option and decided to go with that. She was in no way a vegetarian, but the dish looked good.

When Darius came back with the wine, he asked for their orders. Tasha ordered her vegetarian dish and Deanna asked for something with shrimp.

“I didn’t know you liked shrimp,” Tasha said after Darius left again.

“It’s okay, I guess. But I’m hoping to find a new food here. I usually stick with one of their pastas, but I feel like I can’t order the same dish every time,” Deanna said, sipping her wine.

Tasha decided to try it too. It was red, which Tasha approved of. Red was always a reassuring color. She took a sip and instantly sputtered. It tasted… strange.

“What is this?” she gasped.

“Wine,” Deanna said obviously.

“Yeah, but… oh never mind,” Tasha said. She didn’t really care to know. “I’m not a fan.”

“This is coming from the girl who apparently drank a mixture of drinks in college that was probably just straight up ethanol,” Deanna said.

“That was to get drunk, not to sip leisurely during a meal,” Tasha stated. “You shoot that down and it’s gone within a second.”

“Um, I drank that crap too and that taste didn’t leave my mouth for days,” Deanna said.

“You’re a beginner. After a year of drinking that, you’ll have no taste buds,” Tasha said. “It’s not a problem if you can’t taste it.”

“Oh god.” Deanna put a hand to her forehead. “That’s a load to unpack.”

Tasha gave a small laugh and tried the wine again. “Oh that’s awful.”

“I’m proud of you for trying,” Deanna said with a smile. “Now please stop drinking it.”

“Why? Maybe if I drink it enough I’ll like it,” Tasha said.

Deanna sighed and shook her head. “If you really want to…”

“It’s a night for trying new things,” Tasha said.

“To trying new things.” Deanna clinked her glass to Tasha’s in a toast.

“Hhghhh. Yuck.”

“I did tell you to stop.”

“No!”

* * *

 

Elim Garak’s head popped in through the open window on the passenger side. “Good evening, my dear detective.”

“Good evening, plain, simple Garak,” Julian said, unlocking the car. “Get in. I have a nice night planned for us.”

“How intriguing,” Garak said, entering the vehicle. “I take it you have found a more suitable place than the last few restaurants we have inhabited.”

“I believe I’ve actually found somewhere that could replace your Replimat.” Julian said as he started up his crappy car.

“Oh, I don’t know about replace,” Garak said. “That place was in no way near and dear to me. I do not feel the need to replace it.”

Julian looked at him. “So you’re telling me I didn’t have to agonize over finding the perfect location to eat in order to please you?”

“I never said you needed to go out of your way to pander to me,” Garak purred. “You came to that conclusion all by yourself.”

“Well, I blame you. You’re so hard to read,” Julian said.

“Believe it or not, you’re getting much better every time,” Garak said. “Now, where are we going?”

“I’m not telling you yet,” Julian said. “You’ll have to guess.”

“What, using my spy skills?” Garak asked with a hint of sarcasm.

“You said it, not me,” Julian said, flicking on his blinker and checking over his shoulder in order to move over a lane.

“I was not being serious and you know it,” Garak said.

“Do I?”

“Yes. I know that I have gotten you far enough along that you can tell when I’m being sarcastic.”

“And how do you figure that?” Julian asked.

“I just know,” Garak said cryptically.

Julian looked at the man and smiled. Before that response would have irked him to no end, but now he was starting to enjoy Garak’s enigmatic attitude.

“You look nice today,” Julian remarked.

“Why thank you. I assume it’s a step up from last time?”

He thought back to the last date they had. Garak had shown up in that outfit that reminded Julian of a watermelon. A third of the conversations they had that night had been on that alone.

“You assumed correctly.”

 “I still fail to see how it was in any way reminiscent of a fruit. However, if this suit makes you happy, I’m glad.” Garak smiled. “I must say, I hemmed your pants very well. You look wonderful.”

“I have a boyfriend who hems my pants,” Julian mumbled to himself.

“Yes, dating me has its perks,” Garak said.

Julian tapped the steering wheel. “Perks include: knowing everything about me before I tell you, hemming my pants, and extremely good cuddling. How did you even get that good at cuddling?”

“Natural talent, of course.”

“Uh huh, right. Do I have any perks?” Julian asked.

“Gue-”

“I swear to god, if you tell me to guess I’m shoving you out into traffic,” Julian warned. “For once, I want a real answer. I want to know what I’m doing well so that I can do it even better.”

“How kind of you,” Garak said, a smile playing on his lips. “Now let me see. What is Julian Subatoi Bashir good at?”

“Is it my kissing?” Julian asked.

“I thought you didn’t want to guess,” Garak said.

Julian pursed his lips. “Fine. Go on, then.”

“I would say you are very good at taking care of people. I do not believe I’ve ever had anyone dote on me such as you have,” Garak said. “You are also a very good conversationalist. No one has ever engaged me in discussions quite like the ones I’ve had with you. I commend every one of them.”

Julian smirked. “I’ll endeavor to give you the best conversations of your life.”

“I would advise against that,” Garak cautioned.

“Why?”

Garak raised an eyebrow. “In my experience, the best conversations flow naturally. If you are forcibly arguing a point with no real motive other than to have a good banter, then it is not a very convincing argument, is it?”

Julian thought about it. “I suppose not, no.”

“And I think we both can agree that it’s no fun to argue something that’s as worthless as that.”

“I guess. But I think you just like to argue.”

“That could not be further from the truth, my dear detective. There is no joy in useless quarrel. There is no intellect behind it, and it is like yelling at a wall.”

“Garak, I’m sure you’d like to do that too.”

“It would seem like I’m doing it now.”

Julian shot him a sidelong look. “Are you calling me a wall?”

Garak simply shrugged. “A very attractive wall, but yes.”

“Ouch.”

“If you would put more effort into your point…” he trailed off.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” Julian said. “Which reminds me. Garak, you can’t criticize other people while we’re on a date.”

“I was only trying to make the poor man aware that his suit jacket was a size to big! Nothing more,” Garak said.

Julian sighed. “You can’t just walk up to other people and do that. Any time. Least of all on a date with me.”

“Fine, if he wishes to look foolish, I’ll just let him. I’m sure he’ll thank me for it,” Garak huffed. “I’m sure his wife was already embarrassed by him. I was just trying to help.”

“That’s not the point, Garak,” Julian said.

“And what is?”

“Don’t make people feel bad about themselves!”

“What a compelling argument,” Garak said, rolling his eyes. “A child could have fed me that.”

“It doesn’t matter _who_ tells you to be nice. As long as you _do it_.”

“It doesn’t sound particularly interes-”

“Garak!”

“Yes, yes. I understand you. Be nice and whatnot.”

“Thank you,” Julian exhaled.

“Now, do you mind telling me where you’re taking me?” Garak asked.

Julian smiled cheekily at him. “No.”

“Perhaps we could trade. Information for a kiss?”

“I’m not kissing you while I’m driving.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.”

Julian stared at him. “Garak, I could quite literally kill us if I did that.”

“Hm.”

“I’d say that you’re messing with me, but you’re such an insatiable man that I really can’t tell,” Julian said, shaking his head.

Garak seemed quite content with that. “I am, aren’t I?”

“I’m not kissing you.”

“Well,” Garak sighed, “I guess it was worth the try.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No, my dear Julian, I’m afraid that would be you.”

“Oh!” Julian’s eyes widened. “It’s ‘my dear Julian’ now, is it?”

“You have earned it,” Garak said.

Julian was quiet. He knew he was supposed to be watching the road, but he kept sneaking glances over at Garak, who was staring peacefully out his window. Julian smiled to himself. Garak did that to him. He made Julian feel so many things. Frustration, happiness, curiosity, carefreeness, and sometimes some annoyance. But even that annoyance was something Julian held dear, because nobody else could make him feel like that.

While throwing yet another look at Garak, he found himself looking right in Garak’s face.

“Are you staring at me?” Garak asked teasingly.

Julian wouldn’t give Garak the satisfaction of looking him in the eye. He said nothing, and tried to keep a straight face.

“Oh, I see. We are quite coy now, are we? Two can play at that game.”

Julian raised an eyebrow and stared at a red light, waiting for it to turn green. He was really fighting that smile now. He had to bite the inside of his lip to keep it from slipping onto his face.

Garak pretended to sigh. “Well, I was hoping to go on a date with someone who truly cares about me, but I guess I’m going with someone who wants to ignore me instead. What a shame.”

He was biting so hard on his lip that he tasted a bit of blood, but that didn’t stop Julian. For once, he wanted to win. He wanted Garak to be the one to give in. He was tired of losing to Garak’s competitive side. Julian just wanted Garak to admit to being the attention whore that he was.

“Really, Julian, you’re being childish,” Garak said, losing a bit of his composure.

If he held on for just a bit longer…

“I don’t know what you’re aiming at, Julian, but it’s beginning to wear thin on my patience,” Garak snapped.

Julian ignored it and kept staring out his front windshield. His old driving instructor would be proud. 

“Julian, if you can’t sit still, you won’t ever get your license,” the old man would always grouch. Either that, or “Julian, pay attention or you’ll never get your license.” He never really knew why that man hated him so much.

Garak’s pissed off voice cut through the memories. “If you’re trying to get me to say that I need your attention, you’ll never have the satisfaction of hearing it. I’ve gone my whole life without needing attention.”

While that hit Julian right in his bleeding heart, he knew it was only Garak’s way of getting his attention. Garak knew his weak spots and was very good at targeting them when he so chose.

There was another minute of silence. Julian was actually starting to get comfortable with it. He thought about random things to keep his mind off of Garak. Like that one time that he accidentally forgot to feed Jadzia’s fish while she was away and they all died. He still felt bad about that. Jadzia never trusted anyone with fish again. Not even herself.

He also wondered if Miles ever gave him his phone charger back. His backup was getting old and a bit finicky, and he couldn’t keep using that one forever. He didn’t really feel like spending money on another, so he decided to ask Miles for his charger back tomorrow.

They finally arrived at their destination, and Julian parked the car in complete silence. He didn’t even look at Garak when he hopped out of the car. He was dying to do or say something completely romantic to make the place feel special, but there was no way he was giving in. He heard Garak get out on the other side.

“Julian why have we stopped here?”

He walked around to the trunk and opened it, not saying a word.

“What are you doing?”

He pulled a blanket out from the back.

“Fine! I give in! I want attention just like normal people!” Garak cried. “Now will you _please_ tell me what’s going on?”

Julian finally looked at him. He stepped close to Garak, so that he was only a breath’s distance from him. He looked Garak hard in the eyes. He smiled and yanked Garak in for a kiss.

Garak hadn’t caught on right away, and was clearly taken aback. When he realized what was happening, he pulled Julian in closer, and Julian dropped the blanket. They were only broken apart by the sound of a car unlocking. They backed away when a child and her father entered the van next to Julian’s car, and they stood perfectly still until the vehicle and its occupants had left.

Julian grinned and picked up the blanket. “I finally won.”

“Only because I let you,” Garak said coolly. “What? My curiosity simply overrode my pride. I let you off the hook.”

Julian smiled and shook his head. “Garak, you need attention more than a little puppy, admit it!”

“I won’t, because it’s not true.”

“I think we can agree to disagree on this one for now. I don’t want our date to be spoiled by you denying the truth the entire time. That would be exhausting and no fun at all,” Julian said.

“Will you finally divulge the secret of this date?” Garak asked, taking the blanket Julian offered him.

“Sure,” Julian huffed as he took a cooler out from the back of his trunk. “Just help me carry some stuff and I’ll tell you when we’re there.”

Garak took a second, smaller cooler from him. “I had assumed we had reached our destination. Was I incorrect?”

“Sort of,” Julian said. “We’re at the right area, we just need to get to the exact spot. And I’m not saying anything about the date until we get there.”

“Then by all means, lead on!” Garak said.

Julian tugged the larger cooler behind him while Garak carried the lighter cooler and the blanket. Garak said nothing, but Julian knew that he understood that it was a picnic. If he didn’t… well, it was safe to say that Garak knew.

He led Garak a little ways away from the parking lot. They went past a playground and around a small pavilion, until Julian found what he was looking for. A big hill with two big, old trees on top.

“Put the blanket right in between those two trees,” Julian wheezed. The cooler was heavier than he remembered.

Garak did as he was asked, and Julian followed him slowly up the hill. It took a bit more effort to lug the cooler up the hill than he’d ever like to admit. He set it right next to the tree on the left, and moved the blanket over slightly.

“There. Perfect,” Julian said, grinning at Garak. “Set that cooler anywhere.”

“Of course,” Garak said. He placed it on the right corner and sat down.

“No, you’re facing the wrong way,” Julian laughed. “You don’t sit with your back to the sunset, you watch it, silly.”

“But this warms you,” Garak protested.

“No it doesn’t!” Julian said. “Besides, the point of a picnic at dusk is to watch the sun go down.”

“If you insist,” Garak said, and turned around.

Julian sat down next to him. “There, isn’t that better?”

“I would have preferred to warm my back, but have it your way,” Garak said.

“Here, I’ll warm you up,” Julian said, scooting over closer to Garak. “Is that better, you cold blooded lizard?”

“Infinitely better,” Garak purred. “What are we eating?”

“Ugh, I just sat down, now you’re making me get up again?” Julian complained.

“I’m not making you do anything, my dear Julian, I’m asking what we’re eating.”

“Well I have to show you, don’t I?” He stood and held out a hand to Garak. “Come on, you’ve got to get up.”

Garak frowned at the offered hand, but took it. “What are we eating?”

“Picnic food.” Julian opened the big cooler and pointed out all of the options. “Grapes, watermelon, cheese, crackers and chips, plenty of dips for those, sandwiches, and some wine.”

“Oh, how wonderful! And what about the other cooler?” Garak asked.

“That’s dessert, and I’ll show you that later.”

“What is in the sandwiches?”

“They’re just fancier versions of BLT’s,” Julian admitted. “Captain Sisko said a few years ago that this is the most advanced I should get with cooking, so I just do these to the best of my ability.”

Garak smiled at him. “Splendid.”

“Here. Plate. Grab food. Eat.”

“Yes, my dear caveman.” He ducked as Julian threw a cracker at him.

And soon they were munching on food. Garak admitted to actually liking the sandwich. Julian thanked him. He didn’t tell him that he asked Jadzia to help. Since she had spent lots of her life eating and helping out with Sisko’s cooking, and since Julian was too afraid to actually ask Sisko for help, she was the perfect person for the job. Julian only had to promise to cover one of her shifts.

“Remember our first meeting?” Garak nibbled on a piece of cheese.

“How could I forget?” Julian asked. “It was last month.”

“Yes, it was,” Garak said.

Julian shot him a quizzical look. “Is there any reason why you’re bringing this up?”

“Oh. No real reason. I’m just sorry my information was faulty,” Garak said.

“Yeah…” Julian frowned. “Me too. But… why?”

“Well, I guess if I had to say ‘there’s another shipment happening later this week’, you wouldn’t trust me very much, would you?” Garak said with a very particular look on his face. “If I had to.”

“Are you saying there will be another shipment?” Julian asked, suddenly very alert.

“I don’t know. I take it this watermelon is yet another jab at my favorite outfit?” Garak asked, clearly moving on from the topic.

Julian rolled his eyes. “No, Garak. People eat watermelon at picnics. Have you never had watermelon at a picnic?”

“I’m afraid not,” Garak said. “I have never been on a picnic before.”

Nearly dropping a grape, Julian stared at him. “You’ve never been? Ever?”

“That is what I said,” Garak said.

“God, I’m sorry,” Julian said.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“No, but I still feel bad that you’ve never been to a picnic,” Julian said.

“Well, I’d say this is a perfect first picnic, so I’m not sorry at all.”

Julian smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“Mm. Not nearly as sweet as these grapes,” Garak said. “They’re quite good.”

“I’d say thank you, but I didn’t really do anything to make the grapes sweet.”

“No, but you bought them.”

“I chose a random pack of grapes at the supermarket. I got lucky. Big whoop.”

“I’m not sure luck had anything to do with it,” Garak said.

“Whatever. Grapes are berries, right?” Julian asked.

“I believe so,” Garak said. “However, I am not an expert on fruit.”

“Neither am I. Dessert?”

“I would say I’m ready for dessert, yes.”

Julian opened the cooler. “Pie.”

“How delightful!” Garak sang. “What kind?”

“Apple,” Julian said. “I don’t think I’m advanced for any kind of berry or pumpkin pie.”

“I’m quite pleased with apple, so I’ll take a slice.”

They spent a while talking about nothing in particular and eating their pie. Julian purposely neglected to mention Jadzia’s involvement again in the making of the pie. What Garak didn’t know for now wouldn’t kill him. He feared a little bit for the day he’d actually have to cook for Garak, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“Oh, look!” Julian said after a while of peaceful silence.

He was resting his head on Garak’s lap. Garak was sitting on the blanket with his legs out and his arms propping him up as he held his head back to soak up the few minutes of sunlight.

Garak removed himself from his trance and looked down at Julian. “What is it?”

“A firefly.” Julian pointed it out. “I’m sure the others will be coming out now that the sun is finally going down.”

Garak said nothing as he watched the firefly. Julian had seen plenty of fireflies in his life, so he stared at Garak, who he felt he couldn’t see enough of. He wanted to reach up and stroke his cheek lovingly, but he didn’t want to distract Garak from the fireflies.

Another silence slipped over them, and Julian was perfectly content to keep it that way. To end the night like this would be wonderful. To start the night like this would be even better.

Unfortunately, it seemed Garak still had one more thing on his mind. Julian sighed, knowing what was coming.

“You want to know why here, don’t you?” Julian asked, reading Garak’s facial expression correctly.

“I’ll admit to some curiosity,” Garak said.

“Some. Yeah, right,” Julian smiled lightly.

“Fine. I’ll admit to _a lot_ of curiosity. Happy?”

“With you around? Always,” Julian sighed. “But yes, I’m glad you acknowledge that you’re very curious.”

“Yes. Now, if you please, would you tell me?”

Julian sat up and faced Garak, his back to the now set sun. “When I was little, around five or six, I used to come to that park over there with my parents. We had picnics in the pavilion. It was always the highlight of my week when it would happen. Best days of my childhood. Eventually, we just stopped coming. I have no idea why. A lot of things in my young life were ripped away like that. And now, as an adult, when I think back on those days, I feel sad. There’s no joy in having a childhood taken from you.”

“I can only imagine,” Garak said gently.

“Right, you don’t actually know what it’s like. You never had a childhood. I’ve read in between the lines. I know what a sad kid in an adult body looks like,” Julian said. “That’s why I wanted to come here. I want to take this place from sad to happy again. I want to make this place somewhere I love coming, and I want to make it a place I come with you. I don’t want to rewrite memories, I just want to make happy new ones. And then maybe the old ones can follow in suit.”

Garak looked at him softly for a second. “My dear, I’d love to do that with you.”

Julian smiled. “You would?”

“Of course. Making you happy is something I’m quite invested in,” Garak said, and he reached a hand out and placed it on Julian’s cheek.

“I’d love to make you happy, too,” Julian said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say something like 'I thought you could use a break from all of the heavy stuff, so here's a cute date chapter!" but that wasn't my intention when I was laying out the chapters. I just needed to fill my chapter quota. But have a cute date chapter anyway because you deserve it! Things only get worse from here! Haha!  
> FYI, I went back and changed all of the Elims to Garaks because I was getting real tired of writing Elim all of the time. Garak flowed a lot better and it saved the time I'd use to go back and make sure I didn't write Garak instead of Elim. I just like Garak better.  
> Um also Tasha dying when seeing Deanna in THAT dress (you know which one it is) was actually my reaction. I died seeing her in that dress.  
> And Julian dating Garak like there's no tomorrow and not coming up for air while Tasha's on track to have her second date fifty years from now is just facts, I'm sorry.


End file.
